The Butterfly Effect
by My Wayward Unicorn
Summary: The stories that could have happened... had Arthur and the knights been alive after the battle of Camlann. More detailed summary on the first page.
1. There is still light in her

**Pairings** **: Arthur & Guinevere (duh), Merlin & Freya (again, duh), Merlin & Morgana (just a little), Lancelot & and this one chick called Elaine...**

 **Disclaimer** **: No, I have never had the ownership of Merlin nor will I ever have. If I did, I'd be on the process of making season 10 or something. The quotes I use will often be something I found from Pinterest, if there is an author I will always make sure to announce it.**

 **Summary** **: Alternate battle of Camlann, where Morgana and Mordred are beaten without Arthur nor our favourite knights dying. In this particular story, Lancelot and Elyan are alive as well (let's just say that the one who stepped into the veil to stop the Dorocha, instead of Lancelot, was some other noble knight... let's call him Sir Brave.)**

 **Explaining the summary of this story in actuality is difficult, it involves so many features… including Morgana's death and how she and Merlin make peace at the end. He even starts imagining Morgana talking to him sometimes... so slight Mergana. The main element, of course, is the friendship between Arthur and Merlin.**

 **In addition, this story will offer a magic reveal (way more glamorous than the one in the series); the aftermath of this particular reveal (Merlin leaves Arthur's side by his command, but may or may not find a loophole… by becoming invisible of course); a war against a new nemesis called the Blind Witch (her allies include giants, gargoyles and a villageful of people who have tamed griffins and use them as mounts); general Merlin badassery (like that one time when he goes into straight Emrys mode and creates a cool tsunami, or that one time when he holds up a collapsing cave from crushing his friends); exploring the new relationship between Aithusa and Merlin (maybe she will learn to talk?); Mordred's brother (Melehan) seeking vengeance on Emrys; Kilgharrah's death; some quite scary and unique monsters (like this one vampire that instead of blood, likes to feed on magic); some funny stuff that will happen after the knights and Arthur find out about Merlin's magic (like that one time when Merlin transforms himself into a woman, or that time when he turns Arthur into a toad to hide him from some mercenaries); some cool OCs like a mute druid girl from the other side of Albion, a half-retired crossbowman, and a thirteen-year-old lord. So basically a very long, ambitious and colourful fic, will include both angst and humour, and I will probably accept suggestions, too. In a nutshell... these are the adventures that could have happened, but never did.**

* * *

 _"A witch ought never to be frightened_

 _in the darkest forest_

 _because she should be sure in her soul_

 _that the most terrifying thing in the forest_

 _was her."_

* * *

King Arthur's voice was raw and full of hope, as he let out his war cry. His shout was answered with victory-hungry screams of his soldiers, as the king lead his men forwards. The pass was filled with the thundering rumble of hundreds of feet. One final lightning flashed across the sky, it's thunder accompanying the steps of Camelot's soldiers.

"Who is that?" asked Guinevere, keeping her eyes fixed on the lonely figure on top of the cliff. The old physician next to her sighed first, but answered:

"He is someone truly remarkable." Gwen could hear that Gaius truly meant his words, and could see both admiration and affection in his eyes. "His name is Emrys."

For some reason, the name sent a chill down her back and the skin on her arms rose to goosebumps.

"Do you know him?" she asked, unsure. At first, the physician was silent, as if considering how to form his reply. Then he glanced at the queen and said:

"Let's just say he deserves our gratitude."

After that, Gaius turned his back and vanished inside the tent. Before following him, Gwen glanced up at the figure one more time. There was something about that sorcerer - something so ancient, so absolutely powerful that it made Gwen shiver.

 _Thank you, Emrys. Whoever you are_ , she thought as the old sorcerer turned around and disappeared from her sight.

* * *

Merlin walked at the bottom of the gorge. He could clearly hear the sounds of the battles coming from ahead. The warlock glanced up at the dark sky, squinting. He had sent Aithusa away to safety, but now it seemed like he needed her back.

" _ **Aithusa. Fthengomai au se kalon su katerkheo deuro**_!"

The voice took power from the Earth itself, making Merlin's voice sound louder and hoarser than it really was. He looked back at the sky, to see the small, pale figure speeding towards him.

Aithusa was fast, despite her size, and he knew she could become just as big as strong as Kilgharrah. Merlin couldn't even begin to imagine the horrors that the young dragon must have gone through to make her the sickly creature she was now.

Despite all this, Aithusa was a dragon, and Merlin was a dragonlord. She landed in front of him with a low growl, looking up at him with her deep, sad, pale blue eyes.

"Aithusa", Merlin whispered, slowly landing his hand on the dragon's cheek scales. She pressed against his palm and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Aithusa, I need your help." The dragon opened her eyes and watched as Merlin knelt in front of her. "Look. I know you've been through hell, and I hope that one day you will be able to tell me what made you become so loyal to Morgana", the warlock began. Aithusa didn't answer, just kept staring at him with the same sad look as before.

"I need to face Morgana, but that means I can't protect Arthur. That's why I need you to help him. Protect him, do whatever you need to do to keep him safe. Use all your might. Do not let him fall", Merlin's voice became hoarser towards the end. He sighed and let his brow rest against Aithusa's forehead for a moment.

Go, he whispered, this time sending the message inside his mind. Aithusa let out a weak snarl, before spreading out her ragged wings and jumping back into the sky, eyes scouring for the king of Camelot.

Merlin watched her fly, heart clenching with worry. _Please, let Arthur be alright._

He knew that Aithusa was Morgana's friend, and the two shared a close bond - but Merlin was a dragonlord, and his soul was a brother to Aithusa's. He was her guardian - or at least he should have been. Merlin made a promise inside his mind that from now on he would be there for Aithusa. He would make sure to right whatever wrong had been done to her.

* * *

Arthur could see nothing but bodies all around him - enemies and allies, friends and foes all alike. So many dead. He noticed one of the fallen soldiers of Camelot raising his hand towards the sky. To the king, it looked like a desperate plea for help.

He knelt next to the man, knowing full well that he was beyond saving. Arthur placed his hand on the fallen soldier's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

He could see the life leave his eyes, but at the same moment, he heard something.

 _There's someone else still alive._

The unmistakable chinking of a chainmail came from behind him. Arthur gulped and grabbed the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheathe it in a second. As the steps stopped, he turned around, standing up to see who his enemy was.

Arthur's heart missed a beat.

 _Mordred._

During the few seconds that the two shared, staring into each other's eyes, Arthur could see it all. The hurt, the betrayal that the young knight had felt. The pain of losing a loved one. The hatred towards the man he'd once fought for.

Mordred was still just a boy - barely of age, but still one of the most capable swordsmen that he'd ever known. For a moment Arthur remembered the loyal knight, that had bowed his head in front of him, begged for the life of Kara - unmistakably an enemy of Camelot.

Arthur was aware that it would hurt Mordred, but what choice did he have, as a king? The laws applied to everyone; he couldn't put his people in danger by showing mercy to someone who openly confessed to being Camelot's enemy.

And this is where it had led them.

The shock in Mordred's eyes turned into pure hatred, and at the same time, Arthur heard a high-pitched screech from somewhere above him. The sword in his former ally's hand glimmered as he yanked it towards the king.

Arthur gasped, but when he looked down, he saw the tip of the sword just half an inch away from his stomach.

And it was being held in place in the maw of a white-scaled creature, that the king soon recognised to be Morgana's pet dragon.

 _Why? Why would it help me?_

The realisation hit him almost immediately.

The old sorcerer. Emrys, that's what Morgana had called him. He commanded the dragon away, so surely he was able to command it to do this.

But only dragonlords have the power to do that - and the last dragonlord had died years ago, Arthur remembered. He'd been their final hope in defeating the Great Dragon who had attacked Camelot.

Arthur's tangled thoughts were interrupted, when the small dragon's jaw clenched tighter around the sharp side of the sword, a little blood dripping from her mouth. Mordred followed the situation with dread in his pale blue eyes. The creature yanked the sword away from him with such force that the boy's wrist snapped loudly, and he let out a sharp yell.

Arthur was frozen still - that dragon was defending him. From Morgana's most trusted ally. The white creature jumped to the side, throwing the sword a good thirty feet away from them. It fell to the ground with a loud clang.

Morgana's dragon crouched towards Mordred, a low growl rising from its throat. Mordred kept staring at the creature in disbelief.

"Aithusa, what are you doing?" he whispered, swaying on his feet. "Why are you-"

Mordred didn't have time to finish his sentence, when the dragon suddenly surged towards him, sending him to the ground with a loud thud. All color escaped the king's face when he heard a gurgling scream leave the young man's throat, as the dragon sunk its teeth into his flesh.

The ground quickly turned red from Mordred's blood, and the choking sounds made his heart clench with dread.

"Stop", Arthur pleaded, directing his words towards the dragon.

The creature froze, glancing at him over its shoulder. Arthur stared into its deep, intelligent, ice-blue eyes.

"It's okay. You can stop now", the king said slowly, wondering if it understood him.

It seemed to work, because the dragon moved away from Mordred - not too far away, still watching the twitching man's every move.

Arthur knelt beside him, hand instinctively flying on the open, horrifying wound on the dying man's throat. Mordred's eyes were wide open, glazed over and wet, and stared right into Arthur's. The king knew that the man was living his final moments, and that there was still a small chance his enemy could still try and do something, but he didn't care. He shushed the man, trying to stop the blood flow - even though he knew it was pointless.

"It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Mordred."

There was a small choking sound from his fallen foe, and it almost sounded like a scoff. "No", his voice was hoarse. "You're not."

"Yes I am", Arthur said quietly. "I'm sorry I turned you against me. I'm sorry you saw no other option but to take revenge. I'm sorry you're dying. I'm _sorry_."

Mordred didn't answer at first, just kept staring the king's face. "I'm sorry too", the man choked a whisper. Arthur felt the man's twitching turn weaker and weaker until it stopped entirely. The blood kept oozing from the druid's wounds, and it had smudged the king's hands.

Mordred was an enemy of Camelot, but in his final moments, Arthur had seen the eyes of the man who used to fight by his side. The king let his head hang, resting his brow against Mordred's unmoving chest.

"Goodbye, Mordred", he murmured, clenching his fist.

He then turned around to look at the white creature, who had followed the exchange with a close eye.

"Did Emrys tell you to help me?" Arthur asked, raising back to his feet. To his surprise, the dragon twisted its neck in a way that almost looked like a nod, looking at him with those intense, sad eyes. The king exhaled.

"He told you to protect me?"

Arthur saw the determination in the creature's eyes - it was enough to answer his question. This dragon would not leave his side until the battle was over. With Mordred's blood dripping from its chin, it reminded him of the bloodhounds back in Camelot.

"Well, then", the king murmured, looking around to see any source of life. The sounds of battle echoed further ahead - it was not yet over.

* * *

 _Where is Morgana?  
_

Merlin had used all the power in his staff - he didn't really have use for it any longer, but it's drained magic felt comforting against his skin as he walked in the midst of the fallen soldiers, scouring for any signs of the sorceress. The last he'd seen her she had fallen from the cliff and ended up unconscious at the bottom of the gorge. He was also oblivious to the current status of the battle - who was winning? Was Arthur still standing? What about the knights - Lancelot, Elyan, Leon, Percival, Gwaine? Merlin didn't know what he'd do if one of them had fallen.

Morgana. Find Morgana.

Merlin knew that the witch was just as eager to face him. She wanted the battle.

The amount of bodies at the bottom of the gorge made him shiver - so much bloodshed. So much death - but they had fallen fighting for what they believed in.

The sounds of the battle became louder and louder as he walked further. After several turns, he turned up at a clearing that was bordered by cliffs that reached high up to the sky. Soldiers of Camelot were still standing, battle cries ringing in the air, swords clanking together with Morgana's men.

The witch was nowhere to be seen, but instead, his heart seemed to bump a little louder, because he could see Aithusa in the middle of it all, not letting anyone get close enough to touch Arthur.

 _Arthur is alive. He is alive, and Aithusa won't let any harm come to him._

Merlin gulped after a warm feeling of temporary joy filled his guts. "Thank you", he sent a thought to the young dragon, who then turned her head around in surprise. The king of Camelot seemed to notice the direction where the creature was looking and followed her gaze.

Merlin sighed, confronting the king's eyes. To his fear, he started approaching him.

 _What's he going to say?_

"Emrys", Arthur greeted. "That is your name, isn't it?

Merlin sniffed and looked at Aithusa before answering. "Yes."

"Your dragon seems very keen on keeping me alive. Saved my life more than once already", the king continued.

The warlock smiled wearily and gave a grateful nod to the young dragon, who gurgled at him.

"I'm trying to find Morgana. Do you know where she is?" Merlin asked with a frown, turning his attention back to Arthur. The king sniffed, trying to catch his breath.

"The last I saw her, she was standing on that cliff over there", he stated, pointing towards the opposite side of the rock valley. The warlock squinted - she must have gone to the higher ground.

"She's waiting for me", Merlin murmured. He concentrated his magic, letting it guide him first through the battlefield, then up the cliff, to the steady moors - until it reached Morgana. Her figure was standing in the middle of the empty moors, waiting, watching. He exhaled, letting his eyes turn back to blue. He took a glance at the king and the dragon, before starting to make his way through the battlefield.

"Wait!" Arthur yelled. "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping us?"

Merlin turned around, meeting the king's confused eyes. That's when a very brilliant idea flashed through his mind - this was perfect. He had to control his face not to snicker.

 _Oh, I'm good._

"Because you asked for it", he croaked, like it was obvious.

Arthur's face turned into confusion. "No, we didn't."

"No?" he snickered. "Well, then you have a servant, who takes initiative."

He watched in satisfaction, as the king's face turned pale. This was the perfect way to ensure an alibi. Merlin then looked at Aithusa.

" _If you can, keep an eye on sirs Gwaine, Lancelot, Leon, Elyan and Percival. If they get hurt, I want you to heal them. Can you do that_?"

Aithusa listened to his every word, before nodding at him loyally.

"Thank you", he said quietly, before turning around and starting to walk towards the opposite side of the valley. A few soldiers dared to step on his path, but they were soon sent flying to the gutter. Most, however, stayed out of his way.

* * *

It took a while until he reached the top - but when he did, he could see Morgana. She waited for him with a cold look in her eyes and a twisted smirk on her face. Merlin flinched when remembering the warm smile she used to have, all those years ago.

He stopped, fifty feet apart from Morgana, and let go of the now-useless staff and let it fall to the ground. It was time.

"Morgana", he smiled wearily at the witch in black, who inhaled deeply.

"Emrys", she greeted coldly. "Or should I say... Merlin."

"I think it's time we settled this once and for all. Enough blood has been shed", he said, watching the woman's reactions closely. Merlin could hear his own heartbeat in his ears and felt the magic rushing in his veins, begging to be released. He was ready for this.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Morgana's teased. "Why not just be yourself?"

"Why, don't you like the beard?"

The witch chuckled as she approached him. This was it. The outcome of this battle would determine the winner of the war.

"No matter. I'm just wondering, how did you get your magic back? I went to great lengths trying to eliminate you as a danger", her tone turned colder.

Merlin smiled weakly before answering. "Wouldn't you like to know."

For a while, the two just looked each other in the eye. Morgana, in all her might - wild, black hair tied back; body covered in black robes; pale, smooth skin like the winter's first snow; beautiful features still visible behind her cold expression. And Merlin was facing her as an old man - just to protect his identity from his friends.

 _I'm such a coward_ , he thought to himself. _Even on the final battlefield, I have no courage to show my friends who I really am._

His thoughts were stopped when Morgana let out a bone-chilling scream of anger and threw the first jinx towards him. Merlin didn't even have to raise his hands or murmur the words to stop the curse, but he knew that Morgana wouldn't hold back during this fight. She would give it her all.

His magic vibrated inside his veins, throbbing against his skin. Release me, release me, it begged. Merlin didn't even know what was holding him back.

 _Nothing. Use all you've got. This is it - the final battle._

Merlin dodged another of Morgana's spells. He could see she was losing her patience and saw as she grimaced. Her spiteful eyes flashed golden, and a ball of fire formed between her hands - except it wasn't just fire. It was shining with a black flame (Merlin hadn't even known that it was possible to have black light), but there it was. It was dark, cruel magic, Merlin could feel it towering over him like a shadow. The warlock frowned, not wasting any more time admiring the witch's power.

He murmured a few words, eyes flashing gold - and his palms ignited with a bright, white fire. Morgana wielded her black magic with a terrifying battle cry, and Merlin raised a wall of fire in front of him, stopping the dark flames before they reached him. For a moment the black and white fire mixed together, swirling in the midst of each other. Morgana was powerful - her magic almost knocked his walls over, nearly piercing through his barrier. His hands trembled.

"Why are you on the defence?" Morgana teased, but Merlin could hear the anger behind her voice. "Am I not worthy to see the true power of the mighty Emrys? Am I not?"

She half-heartedly threw the nearest rocks towards him, and Merlin evaporated the stones into dust with a quick wave of his hand.

" _Fight back_!" she snarled, now furious. Merlin smirked ever so lightly - this was good. Morgana was getting blinded by her fury, and in the end, it would end up being her downfall. She was always so emotional, always felt everything so deeply. Morgana muttered under her breath, eyes glowing golden, and her dark fire retreated - but just for a second. It rose again, higher than before. Merlin watched in awe as it took the form of a giant, fiery snake - ready to swallow everything in its way. The cold flames licked the ground as Morgana's magic threw itself against Merlin's wall of white fire. He knew it wouldn't last, so he pulled it back, muttering the ancient words under his breath to bend his fire into a counter attack.

" _She is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love_ ", he could hear Kilgharrah's voice inside his head, as he squeezed the white fire in his grasp. The monster that Morgana had formed surged towards him, and Merlin had to duck away from its cold flames - but at the same time, he threw his own magic on the terrifying beast. His white fire curled around the dark snake like a rope, choking it, drawing away its magic. Morgana's eyes flashed in an angry tone of gold.

Merlin winced as the snake disappeared to nothing, and Morgana's next spell hit him straight to the chest. He felt the dark force swim inside of him, making him bend over and fall to his knees.

He couldn't _breathe_ \- his lungs were filling up with something else than air. He started to cough up water - it poured from his mouth like a river. Was she trying to drown him on dry land? Morgana let out a victorious laugh, taking advantage of the situation and throwing a knife towards him - Merlin could see the darkness that swam through the blade like veins, throbbing against the metal like a heart. That would kill anything it touched.

Despite the dark spots that started swimming through his vision and the fact he couldn't mutter a word, just choke up water, he wielded his magic to throw the blade away from its course. His magic would be his only chance of salvation.

* * *

The battle was practically over, and Camelot was the last one standing, Arthur realised. After his exchange with Emrys, the small dragon had given him a little more space, flying to help others, too. It had saved Lancelot's life by biting off his opponent's head and somehow managed to heal an arrow wound in Gwaine's back.

Arthur would have rather expected his father to have lifted the ban on magic, than this. Fighting alongside Morgana's dragon, while a sorcerer whose power was rumoured to be more than equal to his sister, went to face her. The king could hear the sounds of lighting and fire from the higher ground, Morgana's chanting and Emrys' deep, bone-chilling voice. He knew that all the others heard it, too. Percival and Leon appeared at his side, looking at him with confusion.

"Is that old sorcerer really fighting Morgana?" Leon asked with a frown. There was a bleeding scrape on his cheek and Percival's nose appeared to be broken, but otherwise they seemed to be in good health.

"Yes", the king stated. "And it's Merlin's doing."

He could see how the knights' brows wrinkled with deepened frowns. " _Merlin's?_ "

"He was the one who sent him here", Arthur stated. "That's why he didn't come with us. He went to see that old sorcerer."

"Well, Merlin obviously succeeded, why isn't he here now?" Gwaine entered the conversation - Arthur wasn't sure how long he'd been there.

"I don't know", the king muttered. He then exhaled deeply and took a glance at the small dragon, whose deep, pale eyes were fixated on the faraway cliff.

"It's okay", Arthur said quietly. "You can go. We're alright."

The dragon glanced at him, then back at the cliff - clearly hesitating.

"The battle is over", Gwaine added. "Go."

The creature let out a small snarl before jumping to its wings. Arthur watched it go, soar through the air - but then frowned in confusion as it arched away from the direction where the two sorcerers were fighting, going back the way they came from.

"Where's it going?" Leon asked, but no one had an answer for him.

* * *

Merlin noticed that the people of Camelot (those who were still alive) had started to gather to the edges of the cliff to follow the fight. He was painfully aware that Arthur was one of them.

 _He can't recognize you_ , Merlin reminded himself. _I hope you close your eyes_ , he thought as he choked up another mouthful of water. Soon it would get bright.

I need oxygen, or I'll black out.

His legs were shaking, but he slowly raised his gaze back up to Morgana, who was grinning maniacally.

"Not so powerful now, are we, Emrys?"

Ironically, that was the exact moment when Merlin snapped, and he allowed his magic explode into life. His eyes turned gold and didn't stop glowing - his magic was ripping through his veins like it had been a captive for far too long. Merlin didn't see much from the raging white light that filled his whole being - it was so bright, such raw magic, that it blocked all his senses. He could feel the blood rush in his veins, mixing up with his magic, and flowing through him faster than ever before.

" _ **Beadumægen sylfum sé eormengrund, eorðgráp mé, áfeormian mín bánsele**_ ", he chanted, feeling the water dry up inside of him.

He was vaguely aware that Morgana was thrown back with a painful scream. Slowly, his eyes returned to normal. He got his magic back in control, and it throbbed almost painfully inside of him. Merlin could feel his hands shaking, but didn't let Morgana see that.

The witch was on the ground, coughing, trying to take the oxygen back in after it had been knocked back from his body.

Suddenly a screech echoed through the air, and both of the sorcerers turned their attention to the sky, filled with dark clouds.

It was Aithusa. The young dragon's bony figure soared towards them - and she was carrying something.

A sword. Merlin could feel its power vibrating towards him - could it be? A realisation hit him - of course, Morgana would have made a sword of her own, forged in dragon's breath just like Excalibur. Anger flashed through him - Aithusa had done this for Morgana. _Why? Why would she use her abilities so carelessly, to aid someone as cruel as her_? But these questions had been asked before, and he hadn't been provided with an answer.

His anger turned into surprise, as the dragon dropped the sword right next to him. Merlin carefully picked it up, feeling its power against his skin. Morgana looked at it with dread and shock - of course. Mordred must have been the one who wielded this sword.

Merlin grabbed the hilt, turning the tip towards Morgana, who was stumbling to get up. When their eyes met again, the warlock plunged forward and sunk the sword into her stomach.

The blade went right through. For a moment, Morgana just stared at him, eyes wide open. She attempted to say something, mouth opening and closing, and a small whimper finally escaped her mouth. Merlin felt something burn behind his eyelids as the witch fell to her knees. He pulled the sword out and let it fall to the ground, next to the sorceress. The warlock supported Morgana's neck, not letting her fall.

The looks they exchanged spoke louder than any words.

Hurt. Shock. Sorrow. Acknowledgement - they both knew what this meant. No mortal blade could kill a priestess of the Old Religion - but this was no mortal blade.

Merlin swallowed and turned his head towards Aithusa.

"Come", he whispered. The dragon kept her head down, crawling slowly towards them. Her pale eyes were glazed over with sorrow when she looked at the witch. Morgana's expression was gentle when she reached her hand to stroke Aithusa's cheek.

"It's alright", the priestess whispered weakly. "Be strong, Aithusa. Never give in."

Merlin swallowed again, feeling something burn in his throat. The dragon and the witch looked each other in the eye, an exchange of love - until lowered her gaze and took a few steps back. That's when the others started to slowly approach them.

 _I'm sorry, but I can't let you come any closer_. Merlin inhaled deeply, before slamming his hand on the ground.

" **Astýre ús þanonweard**!"

His eyes glowed golden, as a powerful wind surrounded them in its embrace - magic howled inside of him, carrying them to safety. Camlann disappeared.

* * *

"Where are we?" Morgana's voice was hoarse and weak, and her usually pale face looked sickly grey. She was dying, and they both knew it.

Merlin looked around - it was green, despite the night's darkness. Trees surrounded them, and he could hear an owl somewhere nearby.

"Somewhere nice", he answered, before laying her on the moss bed.

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked with a spiteful cough.

Merlin didn't answer at first - he was thinking of what to say.

"I brought you here because… I wanted you to have peace in your final moments."

Morgana opened her mouth with a grimace, struggling to breathe, her eyes flashing with hatred.

"No, no", Merlin stopped the angry words that would have left her mouth within the next second or so. "Please stop. You're dying, Morgana. I know you hate me, I know you hate Camelot, but none of that matters any longer. Please, just…" he felt the tears burn in his throat stronger than before. "Just don't."

Morgana stared at her for so long, in silence, that Merlin thought she'd already passed away - but then she sniffed, and a single tear fell from her eye, travelling on the arch of her cheek.

"Can I see you?" she asked finally, her voice so weak it was barely even a whisper. Merlin sighed and felt his pocket, pulling out the dark-blue potion that would change his appearance back to normal. He swallowed it in one go and felt as his skin (that looked and felt like old parchment) melted away into the young and pale appearance, and his long, pure-white hair turned short and black. Merlin looked down at the witch, who gave her a weak smile.

"I blame myself, you know", the warlock said quietly - voice considerably less creaky than before - a million emotions running through her. This was Morgana, his arch enemy - but she used to be something else. "You used to have a good heart. There used to be something else than just hatred inside of you."

Morgana struggled to answer. "Before I betrayed anyone, I was betrayed by people like you", her voice trembled with effort, and she swallowed in pain. "And back then, I was so… _weak_."

"It's not weakness to be kind", Merlin answered. The witch didn't answer anything, just groaned in pain.

" _ **Swilte déaþcwalu**_ ", he whispered, letting his eyes flash gold once more, even though his magic was so drained he felt like he could barely stand. Morgana exhaled when the pain seemed to ease. She looked at him again, with sorrowful eyes.

"I'm sorry, Morgana", Merlin started quietly. "When you came to me, wondering if you had magic, I turned my back on you, kept my magic to myself. I should have offered you guidance, I should have been there for you, and maybe... maybe I could have prevented all that's happened since." He didn't bother to wipe away the tear that finally escaped his eye. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

Morgana didn't blink as she looked him in the eye. "I was so alone", she whispered, bottled up hurt and anger pouring from her tone.

"And when Morgause came, you, of course, felt loyalty to the cruelty she wanted to bring upon Camelot", Merlin stated. "She was your sister and she had magic. She understood you. You had no reason to turn her away."

He lifted his eyes that had been staring into nothingness. Morgana swallowed as she spoke:

"I think we both have regrets."

"We fought side by side, once", Merlin added. "I miss those times."

"Me too", the words seemed to escape Morgana's mouth before she had the time to stop them. He watched as her slightly grey lips were coloured with red as she coughed up some blood. He swallowed with effort, slowly laying down next to her. They looked up at the dark-blue sky that was dotted with stars, and stayed quiet for a while.

"Do you remember", started the witch slowly, "when we went to find the Afanc? And we fought it and that torch suddenly _blew up_?"

Merlin closed his eyes, smiling at the memory. "Yes."

"That was you, wasn't it?"

He turned his head with a smirk. "Yes."

On that moment he could see her again - the woman who had died a long time ago, the woman who used to be his friend. The woman who had ridden to Ealdor to fight for a servant's home village. _There is still light in her. Even if these are her last moments, even if the light is just a memory. This is how I want to remember her._

"And when we saved Mordred when he was little", she said, voice growing weaker towards the end.

"We hid him in your chambers", Merlin remembered. "And when Arthur came to search for him, you told him to sod off."

Morgana's smile was real - it wasn't the evil smirk that the warlock had seen so many time in the past few years. It wasn't the twisted grin that invaded her face. It was pure and warm.

"I was always good at that."

Merlin and Morgana turned their eyes back towards the sky. He knew that her time was running out - how long did she have? Hours? Minutes?

"Could you…" the witch started but had to stop to swallow down some blood. "Could you do some magic?"

Merlin didn't answer at first, he just looked at her. Despite all her hunger for power, her cruelty and hatred, all the horrible things she'd done - she was a sorceress, someone who loved magic.

He sighed. God knew he was exhausted; his hands had only just stopped trembling after all the effort that their battle had required. But Morgana was dying, and he couldn't deny this from her.

"You'll be with your sister soon", Merlin murmured as he made a flame appear on his palm.

" _ **Upastige draca**_ ", he whispered, and sparks took the form of a tiny dragon. It made a circle around them, the rhythm of its wings calm and slow, before fading out to the wind.

"You'll take care of Aithusa, won't you?" Morgana swallowed hard, not removing her gaze from the night sky.

"I will", Merlin replied hoarsely. "I swear."

"Good."

He could feel her life force slowly fading away. Merlin turned his gaze back up before cupping his hands, and whispering:

" _ **Gewyrcan lif.**_ "

Morgana frowned while hearing a soft sound of flapping wings. The warlock opened his hands, letting the small, golden-winged butterfly fly to freedom.

The witch stared at it, and Merlin could see the raw emotion on her face. A single teardrop rolled down her cheek. Then she cleared her throat weakly, attempting to lift her hands, but her muscles barely obeyed her orders. Seeing her struggle, Merlin helped her, taking her cold, bony hands into his own and bringing them to her chest. She cupped them, the same way Merlin had done, and although her voice was silent and trembling, she repeated Merlin's words.

" _ **Gewyrcan lif**."_

Her eyes turned bright golden, and then her face melted into a pure smile, full of happiness and awe when a dark-blue butterfly flapped its wings and rose into the sky.

The golden butterfly started to play in the air with the blue one, they danced in the wind like two care-free souls. The witch squeezed Merlin's hand, as they watched their magic play together.

They stayed like that, her hand in his, until morning came and Morgana died.

* * *

 **That would be the first chapter! So I was always kinda disappointed that there wasn't a proper "final fight" with Merlin and Morgana, he kinda just... stabbed her. But now there's more to it =)**

 **Reviews are appreciated more than you'll ever know, and it would be amazing to hear your thoughts. The next one should be up in a few days. See ya :D**


	2. Castle on a Cloud

_"Life carries on endlessly,_

 _even after death_

 _With shortness of breath_

 _You'll explain the infinite_

 _How rare and beautiful it is_

 _that we even exist."_

* * *

Merlin didn't want to move. He'd been standing there for almost half an hour now, just staring at the lake. Of course, he would end up here again. The lake of Avalon.

After a day's ride with Morgana's body, he had finally arrived at the location where he wanted to lay her to rest.

He would always end up here. With a lake, a body and a boat.

Merlin ran his hand on the rough, damp wood. Morgana's body lay there unmoving, but she didn't look that dead. She looked like she was sleeping.

The warlock wiped off one last tear that slowly rolled down his cheek.

Enough. This is the last damn tear I shed for Morgana Pendragon, he thought to himself, biting his bottom lip.

Merlin took a shaky breath before he called upon the magic of the earth, feeling the energy vibrate all around him, his own voice echoing with an unfamiliar force as he yelled to the sky:

" _ **O Aithusa, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!**_ "

His body shivered with the effort of the chant, and he almost fell to his knees. The battle with Morgana, the teleportation spell, dulling the witch's pain… they had taken a toll on him.

He took in a few shaky breaths and sat down to wait.

* * *

Aithusa didn't take long. Soon Merlin heard the familiar screech from the sky and saw the young dragon's form flying towards him.

"Hello", Merlin smiled sadly when Aithusa landed next to him. The dragon sensed what was wrong, and she started approaching the boat, that was still on the beach. As she reached it, she threw her head back, and let out a heart-breaking howl. The voice was hoarse, riddled with grief and pain - and it was breaking Merlin's heart.

 _Well, there goes my tears again_ , the warlock scoffed to himself as he wet his cheeks once more. The sound of a grieving dragon was the worst thing he'd ever heard.

Aithusa stopped, and let her head droop.

 _She is so broken. How am I going to fix her?_

Merlin swallowed and took a few steps towards the dragon. He knelt beside her, placing his hand on her bony shoulder, sending a soothing surge of magic. Aithusa's blue eyes stared, unmoving and glazed over, at Morgana's body.

"I'm sorry, Aithusa. You know I am", he spoke quietly, stroking her ragged wings gently. "I know how important Morgana was to you."

Aithusa didn't make a sound.

"Look at me."

Merlin gently touched her chin, guiding her eyes to meet his. There was so much sadness in them. Aithusa actually reminded him of Morgana - she too had felt everything so passionately, deeply. This dragon was no different.

 _But you're not evil, are you Aithusa? You were just helping a friend_.

"I know you feel lost", he started slowly. "I know you must feel so alone, but you're not. You are not alone, I promise you. Not now and not ever."

Aithusa blinked her big, blue eyes and gave him a sad snarl. Merlin hummed at her.

"I'm here for you. Anytime you need me, I'll find you", he whispered, stroking her cheek. "And that's a promise." Aithusa pressed against his hand and closed her eyes.

"You should find Kilgharrah. He'll help you, I know that." Merlin murmured. "You just need a little courage. Be proud, Aithusa. And be strong."

The dragon flinched at the words - Morgana had said the same thing to her before she'd died.

"Like this", Merlin said quietly, lifting Aithusa's head so that her head was almost on the same level as the warlock's.

"Keep your head high", he muttered. The man then turned around, reaching out his arm.

" _ **Astyre**_."

The boat slowly slid into the water and started departing the shore. Merlin felt a heavy wave of sorrow wrap around his chest the further the vessel went.

"Goodbye, Morgana", he whispered. Aithusa snarled, spreading out her wings. She flew through the air, circling the boat for a little while before knocking her head back and breathing a wave of fire on the boat. The flames caught on quickly on the old wood, and Morgana's final resting place ignited and burned like a torch on the water.

 _Burning her body in_ dragon's _breath. What a lovely way to burn_ , the thought.

Aithusa let out one last, sorrowful shriek before flying to the sky. Merlin watched as she became smaller and smaller until the dragon disappeared from his sight completely.

* * *

Arthur was out of breath - the battle had been long and exhausting, and he wanted nothing more but to take a bath, lay down on a soft bed and fall asleep in Guinevere's arms. The king sat down on a rock, and his loyal knights soon joined him.

"Damn great battle, that was", Gwaine grunted out.

"Yeah", said Elyan. "They'll probably tell stories about us."

"Well there's a weird thought", replied the other with a frown. Arthur let out a small chuckle.

"But we won", the king said. "We won and Morgana's finally dead. Camelot is safe."

Silence fell between the knights, but not an uncomfortable one. It was full of unspoken words, promises of a better future, untold stories and new beginnings.

"You know", said Percival suddenly. "You're like brothers to me. I'm so lucky to have you as comrades."

"Oh, Perce", answered Gwaine. "You bring a tear to me eye, mate."

"Merlin should be here, too", said Lancelot, looking up to the night sky.

Arthur didn't answer at first. He could barely wait to see Merlin again - the king really needed to exchange a few words with him. The king had thought that his servant had suddenly lost his courage, but he should have known he was planning something. Merlin was the most loyal and courageous friend he'd ever had - there was no way that the servant would leave him at the last minute. Merlin had thought that Arthur was walking into his death, and had seen no other way than this. He'd been working in the best interests of Camelot, but he had also worked together with the sorcerer who was responsible for his father's death. Anger flashed inside of him, but he chose not to feed it. That sorcerer had saved his life, and he knew it.

"I wonder why that old sorcerer wanted to keep Arthur alive so badly", wondered Gwaine out loud, taking off his shoes. The knights already knew to lean away from him to avoid the reek that would surely rise from his feet.

"Well, for instance", Leon started. "Arthur is our king. And his, too."

"I don't think things like that matter to him", answered Arthur with a dark tone.

"I get that he wanted to bring down Morgana, her darkness reached everywhere, and she was an enemy to him, too", Elyan said slowly, "but he didn't have to rescue us, specifically."

"Perhaps he believes in Arthur", Percival said quietly, glancing at his king.

"I know what he wants", the king murmured. "He wants me to legalise magic. He's trying to make me owe him."

Lancelot glanced at him sharply but didn't say anything. Arthur got up and walked into the sick tent - maybe Gaius would have answers about Emrys. Gaius always had answers.

* * *

"Oi, you!"

A woman's voice called out to Merlin. The warlock flinched in surprise, looking frantically around until he saw a short figure standing behind him.

"Hello?" Merlin greeted in confusion. They were in the middle of nowhere (two miles away from Lake Avalon), and he had started his long road towards Camelot.

"So, I kinda got lost, ridin' 'ere all by me onesies", the girl (she couldn't be older than twenty) said, looking around. Her eyes were shockingly bright green, and her face was very delicate, beautiful and perhaps a little childlike - there was also a frown between her thin brows. She took her hood off with a yawn, and Merlin's jaw dropped: this girl had a _short hair_.

No woman he'd ever known would cut her hair like that. It was ebony-black, a little shorter than Gwaine's, but still longer than Lancelot's.

"What are ye starin' at?" she snapped. Merlin had a little trouble understanding her peculiar accent, but he flinched at her tone and gulped.

"Right, yes, can I help you?" the warlock stuttered.

"Well that's kinda the reason I stopped ye", she replied, like it was obvious, patting the neck of his beautiful, black mare. "Ye 'appen to know which direction lies Camelot?"

Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"Funny you should ask", he said slowly. "I live there. On my way there right now."

The girl smirked at him. "Well, that's awfully convenient. Shall we?"

Merlin gulped again - she wanted to travel with him?

"It's a good fifteen miles that way", he stated, pointing with his finger.

"Aight", she answered, frowning. "But ye'r goin' there, too, aye?"

Merlin had to focus to understand a word of her speech, but slowly realised where she was getting at.

"Yes I am, and I would be honoured to be accompanied by you", he answered, breaking into a shy smile.

The girl rode closer and reached out her hand. "Me name's Lillian", she stated as the warlock grabbed it. "But mates call me Lilly." Her hand was freakishly small and bony, but her grip was strong.

"Merlin", he introduced himself.

"Well, Merlin", Lillian yawned. "I think it's best we get goin', if we intend to reach that blasted city before the dark."

"... Right."

* * *

Arthur had never been so happy to see the sturdy walls of Camelot. The king was baffled by the sight that was waiting inside the city - the people, the normal rabble, had all gathered down to the streets. They were carrying candles and flowers and placed them down on the ground as a tribute as they passed them. Even though the returning soldiers were victorious and carried their heads with pride, there was grief in the air - because the returning people were bringing bodies with them.

The victory hadn't been easy. A little less than half of the people who had gone to the battle never returned. People wept silently, raising their candles high up to the air.

" _There is a castle on a cloud_ ", some old man started singing. " _I like to go there in my sleep_."

" _Aren't any floors for me to sweep_ ", a little girl joined him. " _Not in my castle on a cloud_."

The song was familiar to Arthur from his childhood. It was sung by some girls he used to play with when he was little - from times he and Morgana were children and playing together, causing trouble… having fun. But he hadn't heard the song in years and hadn't really thought about the meaning of the words as a child.

" _There is a lady all in white_ ", the two singers got company. " _Holds me and sings a lullaby_."

It didn't take long until all of Camelot was singing the familiar tune. Arthur had a hard time not letting his tears fall. A king does not cry.

Guinevere, however, who was riding next to him, had silent tears running down her cheeks. And Arthur didn't have to look back to know that most of his soldiers were crying, too.

" _She's nice to see, and she's soft to touch_ ", their voices were weary and full of sorrow. " _And she says, 'My child, I love you very much.'_ " The sound of his people's voices echoing in the streets sent shivers down his spine. Merlin would cry if he were here, Arthur suddenly thought. The king was then glad that he wasn't.

" _There is a place where no one's lost_ ", the song continued. " _There is a place where no one cries_."

As the king and his soldiers arrived at the courtyard and he was followed by his people, carrying their candles, lighting their way in the dark.

" _Crying at all is not allowed_ ", they sung. " _Not in my castle on a cloud._ "

Arthur and the remaining army of Camelot had stopped. The king suddenly felt like his feet weighed a thousand pounds and that the crown on his head was so heavy that he should trip and fall. Would his voice fail?

 _Oh, please don't let it fail._

Arthur was silent when watching the tired and dirty faces of his people. Some had just returned from the battle, some had just lost their family members - sons, brothers, fathers and husbands. Friends.

"People of Camelot", his voice was strong, "The war is over. Morgana and her army are defeated. And I owe this victory to the people who fought for the freedom of this kingdom."

Arthur's eyes swept over the crowd. "I know you have suffered. I know you have endured pain, loss and sorrow, for such a long time now."

His eyes swept over the crowd. "But after tonight", his voice became louder, "Camelot shall be better. We will stand stronger." He then looked down for a moment "But now it's time for us to mourn", he swallowed. "Time to lay loved ones to rest." Arthur eyed at the rabble, who waited him to continue.

"You know what I see when I look at you?"

He wasn't expecting an answer, but a little girl - the same one who'd started singing with the old man - asked:

"What?"

This caused a wave of smiles move through the crowd, including the king. There was warmth in his voice when he continued.

"I see brave people. I see people, who have been struck down countless of times, but who have always gotten back on their feet. I see people with selfless hearts and brave souls. I see the grief in your eyes, but I also see hope."

Arthur sighed, glancing up at the sky, that was becoming paler every minute.

"A new dawn is rising."

* * *

"Wow, finally a speech I _didn't_ have to write for you."

Arthur froze. He was inside the castle, on his way up the stairs towards his chambers, ready to just fall into his bed (chainmail and a cloak on, he didn't care), but now the king turned around, eyes widening.

"Merlin!"

His servant was standing at the start of the steps, the other corner of his mouth turned upwards.

"Good job out there", he smiled.

"Yes", Arthur stated, walking the steps back down and crossing his arms. "Where the hell have you been?"

Merlin blinked before turning his gaze away. "I went to meet the old sorcerer in the woods", he confessed, voice quiet and distant. "I…"

His voice died out, and he quickly glanced at his king, who was still looking at him, waiting.

"I thought you'd be marching to your death", he finally said, very quickly. "I thought that in order to defeat a sorcerer, you'd need the help of one."

Merlin stopped again, not looking Arthur in the eye. "I rode there to meet him. I told him about the battle. I know you hate sorcery and that I broke the law by associating with a sorcerer and know I'm going to be punished, but honestly…" his eyes met Arthur's. "I would do it all over again."

The king was silent, watching his servant's nervous expression. Finally, he shrugged and grabbed Merlin's shoulder.

"I'm not going to give you a punishment, you idiot", Arthur said warmly, enjoying the surprise on his manservant's face. "You did well. I was blinded by my hatred for sorcery, and I could never have thought that magic would play such a big part in our victory."

He glanced at the man with a smile. "I guess you were one step ahead of us."

Merlin exhaled, processing the king's words. "Thanks", he finally breathed. "I'm glad, because if the sorcerer would have failed I would have never forgiven myself…"

Arthur frowned. Of course - Merlin had wanted to come with him; he would never leave his side if not for something important.

"Or him", Merlin added quickly.

"Look, I'm not mad at you", the king sighed. "The sorcerer saved my life, more than once, and I owe him my gratitude."

Merlin raised his eyebrows as if expecting him to continue. "However", Arthur said slowly. "He was the one who caused my father's death." His eyes suddenly turned cold with fury. "He has repaid his debt now."

The servant didn't say anything for a moment, but then he nodded. "I understand."

"Now then", the king's expression had returned to normal. "I am _exhausted._ I want a bath, something to eat and also", he turned to look Merlin in the eye. "I want to hear about your meeting with the sorcerer, what he said, what you said, what you did with him… everything."

Merlin gulped. "Absolutely. Although, is it okay if I first run by at Gaius?"

"Sure", Arthur stated. "But be up there in twenty minutes."

* * *

Merlin exhaled in relief - Arthur hadn't seen through his lies. Although, what had he expected? He never did. Merlin was invisible. He was getting quite certain that he should start growing daffodils out of his ears before Arthur or the knights would notice his magic.

He had left his new friend, Lillian, to the Rising Sun Tavern. She had quickly disappeared to the crowd inside (although the atmosphere there was gloomy, Merlin had no doubt that she would cheer up the people's minds. After a whole day of riding and talking with her, he found the scenario quite probable) and said brief ' _thank ye's_ and ' _see ye efter's."  
_

Merlin opened the door to the physician's chambers, where he could see Gaius sitting down and treating a nasty gash on Lancelot's shoulder.

"Gaius!" he greeted with a bright smile. Immediately both Lancelot and Gaius jumped up on their feet.

"Merlin!"

"It all worked out in the end", he stated, smirking. Gaius pulled him into a warm hug, patting his back. "Well done, my boy", he laughed.

"You do realise we owe you our lives?" Lancelot smiled at him, squeezing the younger man's shoulder.

"Oh, yeah", Merlin gazed down. "I have a good alibi, but Arthur wants me to tell about the time I spent with 'the great Emrys'."

Gaius arched his brow at him. "What will you tell him?"

"I'll figure something out", he smiled.

"Are you alright, though?" Lancelot asked, brown eyes scanning his thin form. "After your battle with Morgana, and… after disappearing into thin air?"

The warlock hummed and looked down at his hands. "Yes, I'm alright. I was just a bit tired afterwards. Now I'm alright, though."

"And Morgana?" Gaius' blue eyes seemed to drill into him.

"Dead."

* * *

Arthur was almost asleep in his bathtub by the time Merlin entered his chambers. The king had scrubbed off most of the dirt and the blood around his body and was feeling very comfortable, resting in the warmth of his bathwater. His head was lolling back, and his mouth was slightly cracked open.

"I think you should consider sleeping in the bed", his servant's amused tone woke him up. Arthur let out a surprised moan and blinked rapidly, splashing some water.

"Twenty minutes, like you said", Merlin stated, standing right in front of his tub. Arthur licked his lips and leaned forwards.

"Yeah, you were taking too long, so I asked George to bring me the bathwater", he explained. "I'm ready now, though."

After Merlin wrapped the towel around his shoulders and he'd gone and dressed into a loose pair of pants and a comfortable tunic, he gestured Merlin to take a seat in front of his desk.

The servant sighed and seated, watching Arthur's expression. The king sat down behind his desk and crossed his fingers.

"So", he said firmly. "Why don't you begin."

Merlin leaned back with a sigh. "Well, I didn't believe you could win with the things being like they were."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "And why's that?"

"Several reasons." The servant shrugged. "Mordred had a deep hatred for you, and he was going to do everything he could to kill you. And I knew that Morgana couldn't be killed with a mortal blade."

The king frowned, considering his words. Merlin hadn't believed he would win against Mordred and Morgana… and reluctantly he had to admit that his friend was right. Mordred would have killed him without hesitation unless the sorcerer's dragon had stopped him.

"Did you know that the sorcerer was a dragonlord?" Merlin looked surprised at first; then a shadow crossed over his face.

"No", he answered quietly, not meeting Arthur's eyes. The king suddenly remembered the time when the two of them had gone off to search the dragonlord. The events of that night still puzzled him - Merlin had told him that the dragon had died and its body had evaporated. But still - how had he killed it? He had passed out during the battle and didn't remember plunging his sword through the beast's heart.

But he'd believed Merlin when he'd told what happened.

"Anyway", the servant coughed. "I asked Lancelot to accompany me, and he escorted me to the shack. The sorcerer wasn't there at first", he explained, "so Lancelot left, and I decided to stay and wait. He showed up after a few hours."

Arthur nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Well, he was surprised to see me", Merlin said slowly, not meeting the king's eyes. "I told him my business, asked him to help."

The king raised a brow. "Just like that? And he agreed?"

Merlin shrugged. "Well, yeah, pretty much. He said he owed it to you after what happened with your father."

Arthur leaned back in his chair, turning his gaze away. "I see", he muttered. "And then what?"

"Well, he had this crystal that could be used for scrying", the servant explained. "He used it and spoke to you in your dream."

The king suddenly frowned. Wait a minute. It hadn't been the sorcerer's old and creaky voice that he'd heard in his sleep. It had been _Merlin's._

"No", he said slowly, looking up at his servant. "I heard your voice. I'm sure of it."

For a moment, confusion took over Merlin's features, then a hint of something else - panic?

"Well I wasn't the one speaking", he said. "Maybe you just sensed my presence or something, since I was present when he spoke to you?"

Arthur stared at him, squinting suspiciously. Something was wrong here, but then again, Merlin's story was the only thing that made sense to him.

"Yes, you're probably right."

The black-haired man's shoulders relaxed. "Well, he took my horse and rode to Camlann, and I was left behind to his shack, rolling my thumbs", he stated, looking slightly spiteful.

"Well, you invested your absence well", Arthur scoffed. "We won because of that sorcerer."

Merlin eyed at him for a moment, before nodding. "After he returned with my horse, I rode back to Camelot. I even made a friend along the way."

Arthur looked at him, curious. "Did you now?"

"Oh yes, her name's Lillian. She's, uhh…" Merlin seemed to search for the right adjective. "An interesting one, for sure."

The king nodded with a small smile. "Well, I'm glad it all played out the way it did."

For a moment they were silent, but Arthur knew that his friend still wanted to say something. He started hesitantly, avoiding to look his king in the eye.

"So… you're not angry with me that I associated with a sorcerer?"

He yawned, stretching his back. "Well, Merlin, even though sorcerers are thought to be evil, I doubt your actions were dishonest."

The servant looked down, nodding.

"And you know, I don't believe the evil is in the magic, per se, but rather in the fact that the power it brings corrupts the wielder's mind", Arthur spoke, sinking to his own thoughts.

It took Merlin a while to answer. "I suppose you're right. Well, then, if that was all…"

"Yes", the king nodded. "Have a good night's rest."

Arthur watched suspiciously as his servant stood up.

"Are you alright, though?" he asked, squinting at the servant. He always knew when something wasn't right with Merlin.

"Oh, it's just.." he looked troubled. "I just wish I didn't have to leave you like that. I wish I could have been there with you."

Arthur leaned forwards. "Look, you probably won us the battle by doing what you did", he said quietly. "And for that I am thankful."

He watched, satisfied, as Merlin's expression widened to a quick smile. That's more like it.

"No problem", the servant answered, walking up to the door.

"Oh, and Merlin", the king raised his voice. "I wasn't wrong."

For a moment the servant looked confused, but then his eyes glimmered with realisation. Arthur was talking about the night before the battle - the only time when Merlin had refused to accompany him. The king had been disturbed by the fact that his servant, who he thought was braver than any knight he knew, was leaving him at a time like that? He had thought that Merlin was being rational for once, that he just didn't want to die - but the thought had still hurt him. Arthur had thought he'd been wrong about Merlin and his unwavering loyalty, but later he had, of course, found out the true intentions behind his actions.

Merlin nodded at him, clearly moved. "Good night, sire."

* * *

 ** _fireicewriter42:_ You have no idea how good it is to hear those words :3 I'm relieved that you liked it and hopefully I won't disappoint you with the future chapters.**

 ** _rach2322_ : I'm glad you liked it! I'm not quite sure what "crazy Camelot" means, but awesome knightness is definitely coming ;D**

 ** _Nettle29:_ Aw, glad you think so :3**

 ** _Taz:_ Oh my god. That has got to be the most beautiful review I have ever gotten and you have no idea how good I feel about your words. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.**

 **But yeah, that's the second chapter for you!**

 **Now that all that's cleared up, I think I can begin writing the actual story I want to tell. The next chapter will have a less angsty atmosphere, I promise :D**

 **The quote at the beginning is from Sleeping At Last's song called Saturn, and the song that the camelotians were singing was Castle on a cloud, from Les Misérables :D I know it's not actually Merlin's era-song, but it just seemed fitting :^) I hope no one minds!**

 **I always love to hear your opinions, so no need to be shy with reviewing :3 See you soon!**


	3. A Walking Shadow

_"She is a knight,_

 _polishing her own armour,_

 _carrying her own sword,_

 _fighting her own battles,_

 _making her own glory."_

* * *

Merlin had been sleeping soundly until he was woken up by the unheavenly sound of Camelot's warning bells ringing throughout the whole citadel. He quickly blinked the sleep out of his eyes, staggering to his feet. He'd fallen asleep with his clothes still on - the day before the warlock had done more chores than he ever remembered doing, to both Arthur and Gaius. It had been three weeks since the battle of Camlann, and the life at Camelot had finally begun to get back to the way it used to be.

But what was this? The warning bells?

 _Great. Just when I thought that I would get some rest from the troubles that seem to be plaguing this cursed kingdom._

The warlock stumbled outside, passing Gaius who was sitting up in his bed, looking tired and baffled.

"What's happening?" he heard the old man ask, but he was out the door before he had a chance to answer.

Outside, guards were running around, and even some of the knights were up and about, swords unsheathed and apparently ready to kill.

"What's going on?" Merlin asked from Percival, who had just appeared from behind the corner.

"Lord Ashthorne is dead", the tall knight answered with a quiet, serious tone. "He was murdered in his room."

Merlin's heart ran cold. Lord Ashtorne had arrived just a week ago from his home in the northern part of Camelot. He'd spent his time supporting Arthur with the war-exhausted land, given out support and compensations to the people who had lost their family members in the war. He was an honourable man, who was respected by the people.

 _Why would anyone kill him?_

"Get back inside", Percival urged. "We'll deal with this."

With that said, the knight hurried away. Merlin blinked nervously - he didn't look kindly upon the fact that someone had managed to slip into Camelot's citadel and assassinate a person of such high status. It could have been Arthur.

The warlock sighed, deciding there was nothing he could do for now. Just as he was about to take Percival's advice and head back into the physician's chambers, he saw something move in the shadows. As Merlin squinted harder, he saw a skinny figure walk through the darkness. He was sure they hadn't seen him and was even more certain that this was the killer.

He felt rage inside of him - killing lord Ashthorne was something he couldn't just allow to go unpunished. And from what it looked like, this person was almost a master of escape.

Almost.

Merlin narrowed his eyes, stepping into the shadows. This person would pay. He probably should have just called for help, but the warlock knew he'd be just fine on his own.

"You", he said, tone cold and harsh. "Show yourself."

The figure had frozen still. Merlin walked closer, noticing that this was a woman - she had short, skinny legs covered in black leather, and a long-sleeved black shirt made of the same material. Her head was shrouded with a black hood, and as she turned around, he saw her face covered with a scarf. The assassin had big, green eyes and exceptionally pale skin, which were the only things he saw from behind the cloth that was covering the woman's face.

Then she spoke - and Merlin froze still.

"Merlin", the woman said, lowering the cover from her face. "I can explain everythin', I swear."

No one else rolled the 'r' like that. No one else's eyes were that big and that green.

" _Lilly_?"

* * *

Merlin's emotions were a big bundle of fury, confusion and a terrible sense of deception. Lillian, the woman he'd met while returning to Camelot, the woman he'd spent several nights in the tavern with, the peculiar person who'd become his friend… had just assassinated lord Ashthorne?

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't give you to the guards right now", Merlin said, voice so low it sounded unfamiliar even in his own ears. Lillian flinched, staring him in the eye.

"Ye don't understand, Merlin", she said with a hushed tone, nervously glancing around. "Let me explain, and you'll see."

The servant had to use every inch of his willpower to push aside the fury he was feeling. Despite the fact that Lillian was guilty of assassinating an ally of Camelot, he knew she owed her an explanation. He could grant her that, and if her answer weren't satisfying enough, he would haul her arse to the guards within a second.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder, then tugged the woman's sleeve. "In there", he grunted, leading her behind a stack of hay and barrels. It was a temporary cover, but it would do.

"Start explaining", he said, staring her coldly in the eye. "Fast."

Lillian swallowed. "Lord Ashthorne is the reason I came to Camelot in the first place."

Merlin tilted his head as she continued.

"I knew he'd leave to meet the king soon enough", she spoke quietly. "It was obvious, that efter the war he would glue 'imself to 'is Majesty's royal backside."

A pair of guards ran past them, and both flinched.

"Look, lord Ashthorne wasn't all that he seemed", she said with a low tone. "He was a monster. A cruel, manipulative, ruthless, sadistic cocksucker."

There was genuine, pure hatred in her voice, and the look in her eyes was hard as diamond.

"He's been secretly workin' with the biggest slave trade ring currently active in the five kingdoms", Lillian said, swallowing hard. "He was puttin' up a performance to show Arthur that he genuinely cares about people. All this nonsense about doin' what's best for the people", she scoffed, "is just an act. He didn't give a rat's arse about what the people think. To him, people were objects that he can mindlessly rule over and use as he will."

Merlin took a moment to process her words. How did she know this much? And from where did she gain this information?

"How can you tell?" he asked with a deep frown. It took Lillian a few moments to phrase her answer, and she bit her bottom lip with hesitation in her eyes.

"Well", she started slowly. "I haven't exactly been honest about my intentions either. Ye were under the impression I was some drunken lollygagger with a strange accent."

Merlin's fists clenched. "Indeed."

"Well, I'm not", she said sharply. "I'm an assassin, trained to kill since I was a wee lass. When I found out about Ashthorne's business, I took ma'ers into me own 'ands."

Lillian glanced at him, vibrant eyes staring into his. "Now, if ye 'ave changed yer mind about turnin' me in…" she gulped. "I must be on me way."

The woman slowly raised the cloth back to cover her face, turning her back on Merlin and then disappearing into the shadows.

Merlin swallowed - was he doing the right thing, letting her go? If what she was saying was true… then Ashthorne had deserved everything he got. The warlock had seen the look on Lillian's eyes. No one could lie that well. She had to be telling the truth.

* * *

Merlin's original intentions were to find Lillian from the tavern the very next morning, but he was given the task to go and fill up Gaius' herb collection. Since Arthur was busy dealing with the aftermath of last night's gruesome assassination, his servant had the luxury of actually doing something else than tailing behind him and carry out his every wish.

The servant was more than grumpy - he was going to pick plants instead of talk about the matter that was actually pressing at the moment.

The only good thing was that Lancelot was coming with him. The knight had been relieved of his duty to recover from an infection he'd gotten through his battle wounds he'd gained in Camlann.

Merlin liked spending time with Lancelot. With him, the warlock could truly relax and just be himself. He could still remember meeting the man, all those years ago. He was still one of the noblest and bravest people he'd ever met - that part of him had not changed.

"So", the knight started looking around the forest. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"First, we must find fennel", he sighed. "Most of the herbs we need can be grown in the citadel gardens, but there are a few that we need to gather from the forest… now that some of them can still be found."

Lancelot nodded. "The winter takes away the possibilities of gathering herbs here."

"Indeed."

"Merlin, can I ask you something?" the knight asked after they'd spent about an hour looking for fennel. The servant frowned, not raising his gaze.

"Of course."

"Why did you put on that disguise again back in Camlann?"

Merlin froze, frowning. "You know why."

Lancelot had stopped and had his hand on his hip. "You had a perfect chance to show everyone who you really are. The right moment."

The warlock looked into his deep brown eyes and swallowed. "I…"

He wasn't quite sure how to answer. Was he a coward? Because that was the only thing that made sense to him about it.

"And you've lied to Arthur about what you were doing and who you were with", Lancelot added. "You're living a life of two personalities, now."

Merlin didn't answer. The knight was right - partially, at least. One personality was a clumsy servant boy with a big gob - the other was Emrys, the last dragonlord, an old sorcerer living hidden from the world.

"Not exactly", he said slowly. "I am Emrys, and Emrys is me. It's not just my name. It's my magic."

Lancelot nodded. "I know what you mean… I think. But why not just tell him? I can see that the king is starting to question the laws about magic."

Merlin swallowed - he wasn't so sure. True, Arthur was a great and just king, but he still saw magic as a tool for that corrupted people with its power, as he had said. The king had also mentioned how Emrys seemed to be a rare exception in this matter, and that the particular sorcerer wasn't exactly evil.

"I think", said Lancelot slowly, "that magic cannot become legal without you showing Arthur who you really are."

Merlin had, of course, imagined a hundred different scenarios where his magic was revealed - in the heat of the moment, during a battle perhaps; someone important to him getting injured and him healing them with his _special skills_ ; Arthur accidentally overhearing him or seeing him practice magic; someone finding out about the book of spells he has in his room and telling Arthur...

Even more, he had thought about the aftermath of that reveal.

"I've been hiding for so long now", he said quietly. "I don't know how Arthur will react. He will be upset, he will scream at me, he will call me a deceptive liar and a traitor."

He flinched. Just the thought of the hypothetical hurt in Arthur's eyes was a terrifying thought.

"He would have to execute me. Burn me at the stake", Merlin murmured. "Or banish me. And I don't want to put him in that position."

"Arthur would never have you burned at the stake", the knight said, walking closer.

Lancelot placed his hand on the servant's bony shoulder. There was compassion in his eyes.

"Sometimes what you are most afraid of doing, is the very thing that will set you free", he said softly. Merlin didn't look him in the eye.

* * *

By the time Merlin finally made it to the inn where Lillian was staying, it was later afternoon. He stepped into the lively, warm building that was full of people. They were having fun - drinking their mead and cider and ale and wine, joking around, laughing out loud - and all the commotion seemed to be focusing on a particular corner at the back of the tavern.

Merlin raised his eyebrows, walking towards the group of people. He could see them all cheering over some competition, putting in their bets.

He elbowed his way through the drunken people, making visual contact with whatever was causing the commotion.

 _Well, of course_. It was Lillian, sitting opposite of some poor sod, who had a very red face and watery eyes. They were in the middle of arm wrestling. The short-haired woman had a smug smirk on her face. Her bare arms were thin and short, but Merlin could see the muscles that hid under the skin. Especially her shoulders had a sort of muscular build.

Whoever Lillian was wrestling against was having a hard time to breathe. The woman's thin arm just wouldn't move, no matter how hard the tried to push.

"Come on, Lils, finish him off!" someone shouted. The woman smirked brightly, obeying the wishes of the crowd. Without even showing any sign of actual effort, Lillian slowly pushed the man's arm to the table.

"Ow!" he screeched, rubbing his tired hand. The woman reached out hers and opened her palm.

"Pay up."

After the crowd started to scatter, Merlin stood still, his eyes drilling into Lillian. After a moment, the woman raised her gaze, noticing the servant.

"Oh", he breathed, face darkening. "Come."

Merlin was glad she wasn't wasting time.

Lillian lead him to the room she was renting and gestured her to take a seat. The servant sat down on a chair that was at the end of her bed. She was wearing a sleeveless shirt, which was something that Merlin had never seen a lady wear.

Then again, Lillian was no ordinary lady.

"So", the warlock started slowly. "What I would like to know is how you came to know about Ashthorne's crimes."

Lillian was looking way less on edge than earlier when she'd been on the run.

"And I hope you've taken into consideration the fact that the whole city is looking for you", Merlin said, tone a bit harsher than he'd intended.

"Not me, per se", she answered. "The assassin."

The servant sighed, shaking his head. "I just hope you didn't leave anything that they might trace back to you."

Lilith's face was easy to read. _Oh, honey. I'm a professional,_ her expression said.

"I've been doin' this for a long time, don't worry."

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "Long time, eh?"

"I know what you're thinking." A shadow crossed over her face. _That you're a merciless killer, who murders for money?_ "I'm not a sellsword. I only seek vengeance."

"Vengeance?" Merlin repeated. "What do you mean?"

Lilith sighed, changing into a more comfortable position. "I was born into the slave ring", she explained quietly. "The first ten years of me life consisted of sufferin' people, workin' till I passed oot, and the chains of captivity. I 'ad never seen sunlight in me life."

Merlin flinched - he knew exactly what she was talking about. "I understand", he said quietly. "I've never really told anyone about this, but…" the warlock hesitated, but saw the curious look in Lillian's green eyes. She would be the only person who understood.

"When I was thirteen, I was taken by slavers from my home village", he said quietly. "I was one of their captives for a year."

Merlin lowered his gaze, sinking into his memories.

* * *

The _air smelled like sweat, metal_ and _rust. Merlin could taste something rusty and salty in his mouth, and he licked his cracked lips, touching the scratch on his lip. There was dried blood and dirt smudging his face, and it itched and stung his skin._

 _"Hey, you're awake!" a girl's voice, quiet and hoarse, called out. Merlin's eyes fluttered open with effort, and he squinted in the dim light._

 _"Where am I?" he murmured. His return to consciousness brought a throbbing pain along with it, and he grunted, touching his head._

 _"They must have hit you quite hard", the girl whispered back. The boy had started to sit up, fighting against nausea that hit him. He blinked a few times, looking around._

 _They were in a cage. On a carriage. There wasn't very much room to move. Some big and brute-looking men passed them now and then, throwing a vicious glance in their direction._

 _"Where are we?" Merlin asked again, fear now starting to seep into his bones._

 _"We're doomed, is what we are", the girl answered darkly. "Those are really bad people. They want to sell us somewhere."_

 _"Sell us?" Merlin repeated, horrified. "Like… like slaves?"_

 _"Precisely."_

 _"Bollocks. We've got to get out of here."_

 _Merlin felt his magic swim under his skin nervously. He had always used it instinctively, and had never broken a lock before - but was still frustrated when he couldn't make the bloody thing open._

 _"I'm Rowena, by the way", the girl said,_ swiping _her ginger locks off of her face._

 _The boy looked at him, smileless. "I'm Merlin."_

* * *

"So, ye understand", said Lillian, eyes drilling into his skin. "Ye've been there. Ye know how bad it can be."

"I do", Merlin whispered, looking up at her. "And I understand your hatred."

The woman leaned back, giving a relieved sigh. "So…" she seemed to hesitate. "We're still mates?"

The warlock gave her a small laugh. "Of course."

Lillian's face lit up. "Ameezing."

"Also… does this have something to do with the fact you avoided meeting my friends?" Merlin asked, frowning. The woman had been in Camelot for three weeks, and every time the warlock had suggested meeting up with Gwaine or the other knights, she had made up some reason why she was occupied.

Lillian looked down at her small hands. "Aye", she stated. "I knew I could get oot of the citadel and sneak away. However…" the woman raised her gaze, looking straight into Merlin's. "There is always a risk. An' I needed ye to be able to deny ever knowin' me."

The warlock stared at her - was she for real? She was refusing to meet Merlin's friends because she thought she was protecting him?

"Wow", he breathed. "Um. That's… nice. Thank you."

"But", Lillian's face widened to a smirk. "Nothin's stoppin' me from meeting 'em now."

* * *

"We're going for a hunting trip tomorrow", Arthur stated as he was getting ready for bed. It had been three days since lord Ashthorne's murder - the political matters had been dealt with, he'd been given a glamorous funeral, and life was seemingly returning to normal.

"Yay", Merlin said, without a drop of enthusiasm.

"Come on, it's amazing, and you know it", the king yawned, changing into a tunic.

"Sure", his servant stated, cleaning up his table. "If you like murdering innocent animals for fun."

Arthur sighed, glancing at him with mischief. "Besides, you scare off half of the prey anyway."

Merlin didn't answer - the king had always thought it was just because of his clumsiness, but in actuality he did it on purpose. And his clumsiness had saved several of the so-called prey's lives.

"Cheer up", Arthur grinned, patting him on the shoulder. "You'll love it."

That's when a sudden idea jumped to his mind. "You know what?" Merlin turned around, thoughtful. The king raised his gaze in surprise. "Yes?"

"Could I bring a friend of mine along?" he asked, as innocently as possible.

Arthur frowned. "A friend of yours? Another servant? Or a drunk from the tavern?"

The servant thought about it - was Lillian a drunk? Sure, sort of, but…

"No", he answered with a smile. "I promise they won't be any trouble. Just one friend."

The king seemed to consider his words. "Well, it was going to be just me, you and the knights, but…" his expression seemed to turn into an oh-well-why-not -one. "Sure. If it makes you feel better. But only on one condition - they must not scare off any prey, and not be on my way. Clear?"

Merlin's face lit up. "Understood. Thanks, Arthur!"

* * *

The sun was still low when the hunting patrol started getting ready. Arthur was all saddled up by the time his lazy knights had found the decency to drag their good-for-nothing arses out of bed.

Except for Leon, of course. Leon was always on time.

Gwaine turned up from the castle, chainmail dirty and hair sticking up in every direction. He had a stubble and judging by the bag under his eyes and the reek of alcohol he had an ungodly hangover. The knight yawned and grabbed the first horse he found.

"Long night?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows.

"You have no idea, princess", Gwaine murmured, holding his head.

Soon enough, the rest of the knights turned up. They didn't look much better than Gwaine - except for Lancelot, who threw resentful looks towards his fellow knights.

"What the hell did you do?" Merlin's bright voice asked. Arthur turned around, seeing the servant turn up from behind the corner. He had brought a friend, as promised-

A girl.

Merlin had brought a _girl_.

Her features were thin, beautiful, delicate and fragile - she reminded Arthur of a doll. She had cut her raven-black hair shorter than Gwaine's, which was something the king hadn't seen on a lady before. It wasn't that uncommon for older people, but definitely not for women her age… to be honest, Arthur couldn't tell what age she was. Eighteen? Twenty? Twenty-five? She had a certain childlike look to her - she was very short, delicate, and to be honest, sort of flat.

As Arthur recovered from the original shock, he realised that this must have been the girl that Merlin had talked about a few weeks earlier.

"Lillian, if I'm not mistaken?" he said hurriedly, reaching out his leather-gloved hand.

"Indeed", the girl smirked. "Pleasure to meet ye, Yer Majesty."

The king raised her eyebrows at the peculiar way she talked, then glanced at Merlin. The servant grinned smugly.

"An' knights of the Round Table, em I correct?" Lilith turned her attention to the knights, who kept staring at her dumbly.

"I 'eard ye'll be goin' huntin'?" She continued.

"Yes", Arthur admitted and kept looking intensively at Merlin. What was he thinking? Bringing a girl to a hunting trip? Where she could get hurt?

"Have you, um…" Leon started, clearing his throat. "Ever hunted before?"

"Me? Oh, yes, don't ye worry, I won't be in yer way", she stated. She then glanced at the rest of the knights with a frown. "Bugger, ye all look 'ammered. Are ye sure ye can hunt?"

"A knight of Camelot is capable of hunting, even if a little hammered", answered Elyan, raising his chin.

"Pleasure to meet you, my lady", Gwaine said with a charming grin, grabbing Lillian's hand to press a kiss on it. She smiled politely at the gesture.

"Likewise", she answered. "I've heard aboot ye. Ye're the one that Camelot's taverns all talk aboot."

Gwaine looked smug. "Indeed."

"Yes, may I ask somethin'?" Lillian looked him in the eye, not waiting for an answer. "Who is the prettiest woman in this city?"

All the knights were staring at her, mouths slightly cracked open. Merlin hid his smile.

"Um, well", Gwaine was the first one to recover. "If not counting in our gorgeous queen, I would say the prettiest _free_ lady is Clairette."

Lilith clicked her tongue. "Clairette. Wha' a pretty name."

"Yes, everything about that woman is pretty, I'm telling you", Gwaine said, eyes turning dreamy. "She's a waitress at the Winking Wyrm."

"Thank ye. I'll keep that in mind", the woman said brightly, turning away.

The king took a step towards Merlin, drilling his eyes into the servant's skin.

"What", he started slowly, tone low, "are you thinking?"

"Huh? Bringing a friend along", the man answered with the most innocent look in his sapphire-coloured eyes. "You said it was okay."

"You're bringing a girl. She could get hurt. Is she your mistress or something?" the king asked, glancing at the woman.

"Gods no", Merlin answered with an amused scoff. "She's my friend, and trust me when I say this", his eyes turned very serious. "She is more than capable of taking care of herself. Just bring her along and forget about the fact she's a woman."

Arthur narrowed his eyes, biting his lip. Could he really allow this? It was true that Morgana and Gwen had both been capable with swords back in the day, and he had allowed the women of Ealdor fight for their homes.

"Fine", he stated finally, flashing a smile towards the girl. "Shall we then?"

* * *

Deer tracks had led the hunting patrol towards a clearing. There was, indeed, a beautifully big stag right in the middle, stuffing itself with the autumn's delicacies.

Arthur threw a warning glance towards Merlin. Don't you dare scare it away.

The king brought the crossbow up, exhaling deeply. And right when he was about to fire the bolt, he realised that the stag was already falling tumbling down.

Had someone already shot it?

It wasn't Gwaine, not Leon, not even Lillian who'd been given her own crossbow. No, because right then a group of raggedly-clothed, dirty and brutish men appeared from the treeline, laughing loudly.

"You know, I find it stupid that we need to bring boss fresh meat", one of them complained. "Just because he's our leader doesn't mean he's royalty. We all eat the same shit."

"Yeah, the stuff we took from that caravan apparently wasn't enough for his _Highness_ ", the other continued.

"Bandits?" Merlin whispered, glancing at Arthur.

"Yeah."

Suddenly the king's heart jumped to his throat, when one of the brutes turned around, squinting at their direction.

"That's weird", he stated to his friends. "I thought I saw something glimmer in that treeline."

"Come on", the other one answered. "We need to get back to Ansel before he gets his knickers in a knot."

It took a moment for the bandit to follow, but he eventually turned around, and Arthur sighed in relief. The hunting party waited in the bushes for a while until the king slowly stood up.

"Interesting", he said with a frown.

"Shouldn't we… I don't know, check 'em oot?" asked Lillian quietly. "Wha' if they've got prisoners?"

"She's right", said Gwaine.

"We have six highly skilled knights on board", Merlin stated. "But there's still a possibility of getting overpowered. From the sound of that, I'd say there at least ten of them. Probably way more."

Arthur was about to answer, but Percival spoke before him.

"Way more", the big knight answered, pointing towards a small path, which was smudged with tens of footprints.

"Oh dear", the king sighed. "We need to go back and gather a proper attack team."

"Why?" Gwaine complained. "We've been against thirty bandits, just the six of us, and we're all still alive."

"The one in the Valley of the Fallen Kings?" frowned Lancelot.

"Yeah, we were alive, but we ended up scattering, and Merlin almost died", Leon answered Gwaine. Arthur threw a dark glance towards his manservant, who flinched at the memory.

"Even though we could fight them, I don't think it's worth the risk", the king stated. "We're heading home, and we'll arrange a patrol to seek them out."

* * *

Arthur had a feeling in his gut that something like this might happen, but he had just dismissed it as useless negativity.

The bandits were smarter than he'd thought. Even though it had seemed that the brutish hunters had just dismissed the glimmer of their armour as nothing, apparently that hadn't been the case.

Because now they had the whole bandit clan on them. Arthur could roughly count maybe twenty of them. And they probably could have been able to fight their way out if the bandits hadn't surrounded them and then made a surprise attack. It had startled the horses, and after they had been ripped from their saddles to the ground, there was just no way they'd be able to escape.

The only bright side was that when the horses would reach Camelot, Guinevere would immediately send search parties to look for them.

But it would take hours and hours before they'd be here. And Arthur couldn't help but to feel dread for the lady in their company - she was nowhere to be seen. The criminals had immediately separated her from the rest of them. Luckily they were all mostly unharmed, not including Elyan who had a nasty wound on his leg, which had been pierced by an arrow.

It was Lillian they were all worried about. The bandits had tied them up in a tent, taken their swords away and then left a few guards to keep constant watch over them.

But what are they planning to do with us? Ransom, perhaps? It seemed like the most probable answer.

Sure enough, they were soon joined by a short man, whose clothes were dirty and slightly ripped, but who carried himself with a certain solemnity.

"Are you the leader?" Arthur asked, narrowing his eyes.

"What do you think?" the bandit answered, staring back at him, unblinking.

"Based on the way you pinch your nose on those guards, I'd say yes", the king answered. The bandit leader's eyelid twitched, but he didn't answer. He got up, looking down at the defeated knights.

"I'm sure queen Guinevere wants his king back. You'll fetch a nice price", he said with a short snicker. "Business has been booming ever since I became a leader. Don't you agree, Ricky?"

The knights turned their attention towards the tall guard that the leader was talking to.

"Sure has", Ricky answered with a stiff smile. With that, the leader - Ansel, Arthur suddenly remembered his name - disappeared outside the tent.

* * *

It was getting dark outside. Merlin was very uncomfortable, lying in a pile with the knights. Leon's elbow was poking his ribs, and Gwaine's knee was pressing on his back, and his neck was getting sore.

It was nigh impossible to use magic unnoticed in a situation like this. But, like whenever they got captured, he knew that if it came down to it… he would use it. If it were choosing between revealing his magic and saving their lives, he would do it. Lancelot kept glancing at him from time to time, and Merlin tried hard to ignore his looks.

In addition, a growing dread for Lillian's safety kept creeping into his heart. The warlock knew that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but these men were savages - they wouldn't hesitate to lay their dirty paws on her.

Merlin shuddered with the thought.

His growing desperation was interrupted when he heard a quick yell from the outside the tent. Then frantic running, battle cries, cursing, screams, clanking of swords.

There was a fight outside.

"What's going on?" Gwaine hissed, trying to desperately peek outside. Their guards suddenly abandoned their spots and ran out of the tent, apparently to help their friends.

Leon suddenly let out a groan, then a troubled exhale, before pulling out his hand and waving it in the air.

"You got free!" Elyan exclaimed.

"Leon, mate, I love you", said Gwaine with a soft smile. The experienced knight rolled his eyes, struggling to freedom. Leon started working on opening the knots on Arthur's wrists. They were bound tight, so it would take a while.

"Hurry up", Arthur hissed, glancing nervously to the tent's entrance. The sounds of the battle could still be heard, although they were a bit further away than before.

After Arthur was free, Leon started working on Gwaine, and the king turned to Merlin.

"Let's get out of here", he murmured, doing his best in opening the knots on his servant's thin wrists.

"Ow", the raven-haired man complained, frowning when the ropes burned his skin.

"Don't be such a girl", the king muttered back.

It didn't take long for them to finally free everyone.

"Merlin, you help Elyan", Arthur ordered. The dark-skinned knight couldn't really walk on his own.

"Okay, let's go", the servant exhaled, grabbing Elyan's arm.

"Thanks, Merlin", the knight said, flashing him a grateful smile that turned into a pained grimace, as they started moving. The servant wasn't physically very strong, and Elyan was both muscular and all armoured up, which made the warlock's task a little challenging.

The knight grunted and winced, having to put weight on his injury, but after a while they managed to reach an accord with their pace.

The knights surged outside, frantically looking for something to use as a weapon. Gwaine found one and started running towards the commotion.

"Go, go, I want to see", Elyan breathed, and the two tried to tighten the pace - didn't matter, though, the knights were running.

It took them a little while to reach them, but Merlin frowned as he saw that they had all stopped in a row, and kept staring at something, thus blocking the view. The warlock and the knight made it to their side, and their eyes immediately widened.

There were bodies all over the camp; mostly their throats had been neatly slashed with something sharp. Some were writhing in pain; some were already dead. In the middle of it all, out of breath and covered in her enemies' blood, stood Lillian.

Blood stains accompanied the freckles on her face, and the fire of battle was still visible in her vibrant eyes. Lillian sniffed, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

"Well, at least ye got free on yer own", she stated, walking closer. She was holding a pair of daggers in her hands, examining them.

"You… killed the bandits on your own?" Gwaine was the first to speak up.

"Come now, lads", Lillian gave him a smile. "Don't beat yerselves up. I never could've taken 'em all head on. It's all aboot stealth."

"Stealth", Leon repeated. Merlin could see the awe and respect in his friends' eyes.

"Aye", Lillian licked her lips. "It was dark, and I'm very quiet, so it wasn't all that difficult in the beginning."

She looked up at Merlin, who flashed a dry smile at her. "It did get a bit challenging when they realised somethin' was up, and there was five guys comin' straight at me."

"You slaughtered a whole bandit camp on your own", said Gwaine slowly, still trying to process the whole thing. Arthur had remained dangerously quiet.

"I wouldn't say slaughtered", Lillian said slowly. "I'm cleaner than that."

"Yes", the king's voice was hoarse as he looked coldly into the woman's eyes. "Yes, you are. Now tell me", Merlin's heart sank to his feet when Arthur took a step towards the short, fragile-looking young woman, "Why do all these slashes look exactly identical to the one that was on lord Ashthorne's throat?"

Lillian blinked a few times, quickly glancing at Merlin.

She gulped. "Oh yeah, about that."

* * *

 **Wow, you do seem to have a lot of feelings about Lillian… doubters, give me time to write her** **the way I've planned her character arc to go. I know you think she's a bit of a Mary Sue, but don't worry, you'll get to know a bit more about her later in this fic.**

 **I also notice how badly you're waiting for the magic reveal… don't worry it's coming. However,** **before the reveal is made some stuff needs to happen (the events that eventually lead to the reveal still haven't taken place). I've planned everything. Hopefully, y** **ou don't have to wait for more than a few more chapters for the reveal :^) It's going to be a big thing, anyway, and afterwards** **nothing will be the same… So if you have requests for these few chapters before the reveal (for example, do you want to see a scar fic where Merlin's numerous scars are noticed by the knights and they be like what who hurt you ((this can be done after the reveal, too, but if I'm going to make one I'd say it should be before that happens)), or if you'd like to see other kind o** **f Merlin whump ((injury/sickness?)), where the knights still think he's a poor little puppy who needs protection from the cruelties of this world?), just let me know. Don't be shy to ask for little things you'd like to see (the reveal r** **equest is noted and was going to come anyway, just be patient xD**

 **fireicewriter42 : Thank you for your kindness :3 I'm so happy that you liked it!**

 **mersan123 : Oh yeah, I was very mad about Morgana's fate anyway, so I thought this would better serve her character. And yes, Merlin is still hiding for now, but you won't have to wait for long. The reveal is on its way in the near future.**

 **Vaelaa: Thank you :)And yeah, many people tend to be a little reserved when it comes to OC's... but don't worry, she's so not a Mary Sue x)**

 **Taz: Hm, interesting theory, but I'm afraid Morgana is dead and has no connection to Lillian... and from the future? Now that would be interesting x3 But no, even though she is very much not like the other women of her time, with her short hair and weirdly revealing (Oh my god, I saw her ankles!) clothing, it's just a part of her character. She's meant to be a little out of place. Lillian is quirky for sure - and just like everyone, just looking for her place in this world. I thought she would bring along some Game of** Thronesey **feeling to the story... but I'm glad if you like her nonetheless :3**

 **Also, I know I promised less angsty, but I never said there wouldn't be angst at all.**

 **This chapter was a filler, it may have been boring** idk **? And it turned out much longer than I thought it would… but yeah, I hope you like (or at least don't hate!) Lillian. The next chapter will be less OC-centric, and I also apologize this took me so long.  
**


	4. Faceless Children

_"You know my name,_

 _not my story_

 _You've heard what I've done,_

 _not what I've been through_

 _If you were in my shoes,_

 _you'd fall on the first step."_

* * *

 _Merlin was beginning to lose hope. The lock was annoyingly thick; the metal simply would not bend to his will. He had tried - he really had. And even if he did get out, the guards would surely catch him._

 _They'd been in the cage for two days, now. With Rowena, who had quickly turned out to be friend-material. It was unfamiliar for Merlin - he only had one friend back in Ealdor, Will, but all the other children thought he was weird._

 _The warlock sighed, leaning his head back against the cold, rusty bars. Rowena was humming a song - Merlin_ recognised _it. They used to sing it in Ealdor, too, during warm and happy summer days when they'd go swimming to the forest lake, and later return to the warm, sweet smells of fresh-baked bread._

 _"Tom, he was a piper's son", Rowena sung, keeping her soprano voice as silent as possible. "He learnt t_ _o play when he was young."_

 _Merlin looked around, seeing the faces of all the other imprisoned children. Right next to the was a carriage that was transporting five children, who were chained together. One of them couldn't be older than five._

 _"And all the tune that he could play", the girl continued, her voice barely steady. "Was over the hills and far away."_

 _Merlin felt tears prickling behind his eyelids, but he quickly wiped his eyes. He would get out of here. He had to._

 _"Over the hills and a long way off", the boy joined Rowena's silent song. "The wind shall blow my top knot_ _off."_

* * *

"Let's not make any rush decisions 'ere", Lillian said slowly, when she saw the knights' expressions suddenly turn cold. Arthur pointed her with his sword.

"Have you got something to say for yourself?" he asked, calmly. Merlin felt dread at the pit of his stomach, following the situation with fear.

"Just listen, will ye?" she added, glancing at the sharp objects that were now all pointed towards her.

"We're all ears", said Leon stiffly.

"Lord Ashthorne was not all he seemed", Lillian explained, raising her hands defensively in the air. "I killed him because of his crimes."

"It is me who holds the trials", Arthur said harshly, looking Lillian in the eye. The woman scoffed, looking up at the man.

"As if me word would count anythin' against a man like him", the woman murmured. "He would 'ave chopped me 'ead off as soon as I'd raise me voice."

"So you admit killing him", Arthur confirmed, narrowing his eyes.

"Aye", Lillian said.

"Why?" asked Lancelot suddenly, stepping forwards. "What do you claim lord Ashthorne did?"

For a moment the woman was quiet, throwing a glance towards Merlin every now and then. The warlock looked back at her, nodding to encourage her.

"He was involved in slave tradin'", she said quietly. "A monster, hidin' behind the cloak of nobility." Lillian sounded more than bitter. Arthur didn't lower his sword.

"Have you any proof?"

The woman scoffed. "You think he's the kind of person to leave any proof?"

The king swallowed, glancing at Merlin, who had seen it best to keep his mouth shut.

"What would you say, if we rode to Northpoint?" Arthur suddenly said, blinking at Lillian. The woman looked puzzled.

"And what would you expect to find there? A city in grieving?"

The king of Camelot nodded. "If there is any truth to your accusations, we may spare your life. Besides", he sheathed his sword. "I've meant to go there anyway. I just thought to give them a week to mourn for themselves, before paying my visits."

The knights still wouldn't let their eyes waver from the apparent danger. Merlin shifted his weight nervously, heart pounding loudly.

"I think we should run her through", growled Elyan, who was trying to balance on his injured leg. "She's a criminal."

Lillian glared at him. "If you were me, you would have done the same", she barked. "And yes, by all means, let's ride to Northpoint to see if lord Ashthorne was careless enough to leave behind evidence", the woman inhaled. "Which he didn't, because he was cunning and knew better."

"Nevertheless", Arthur stated. "It's your only chance. Your life depends on it."

Lillian didn't say anything but looked Merlin in the eye. The warlock nodded at her, blinking calmly. He wouldn't let Arthur kill her, even if there was no evidence. Merlin believed her.

* * *

Merlin _woke up to a loud clanging. The cage was being opened. Rowena pressed against him, grabbing onto his arm. Usually, they didn't bother opening the cage door to give them food, they'd just push them through the bars._

 _"Make room for your new buddy", one of the slavers snorted, pushing in a small boy, who had dark skin, black curls_ and _big, brown eyes. He had a cut on his forehead, and he'd been crying, but otherwise seemed alright. The cage had been uncomfortably small with just two children - now they had a third one._

 _"Hey", Rowena said quietly. The boy had said nothing, just pressed his knees to his chest and rested his head against them. "Are you okay?"_

 _The boy didn't react in any way. The girl was about to grab his shoulder, but Merlin stopped her. It would do no use for now._

 _"Don't", Merlin mouthed, shaking his head and throwing a sad look towards him. "Just... let him be for now."_

* * *

Northpoint was located on a small hill between the Northern Plains and Andor. It was a quite secluded area, despite the city being bigger than a mere village. There was an ancient watchtower that had once shadowed over the plains. There used to always be a burning torch nearby, ready to light the tower's fires and warn the other watchers.

Merlin had never had the chance to visit it before, and had always wanted to go - he just wished the circumstances had been different. A whole day's ride was behind them, and his back was aching heavily. Very few words had been exchanged during the day, and Merlin felt uneasy. It wasn't normal for them to be this quiet for this long. It had been a little easier with the occasional sass that was exchanged between Gwaine and Lilith, but otherwise, it had been a very grim ride.

 _Can't really blame them_ , he thought as they rode in through the gates. Northpoint's soldiers bowed their heads as the king rode past them further into the city.

Merlin liked what he was seeing. Northpoint was filled with wooden huts and houses, small market stalls, children playing in the first snow with a kitten.

"Stay still, Betsy", the bigger of the two playing girls murmured, trying to put a very small wool mantel on the meowing cat, who was struggling in the arms of a smaller girl. Merlin smiled at them as they rode past them.

People were watching them. Everybody had a good guess of what they were doing there - paying respects. If they only knew…

Merlin swallowed with effort, as they arrived in front of a manor. It was quite the glamorous sight, with the wooden poles reaching high up towards the sky; the decorative carvings on the door and the poles; the warm glow coming from inside the thick-looking windows.

"Ashthorne estate", the king murmured.

As Arthur dismounted his horse, a few stable workers immediately rushed to the sight, starting to fuss around the horses. Gwaine and Leon glued themselves to Lillian's each side, eyeing at her suspiciously.

Elyan had been sent home and was accompanied by Lancelot. Merlin knew they'd be home by now and would let Gwen know about their little detour. The servant couldn't help but feel uneasy, with all of Northpoint staring at them.

That's when the doors to the manor opened. Merlin had to mask his surprise when he saw the person standing there.

"Welcome to Northpoint, Your Majesty", the young boy's voice said, bowing his head. The warlock could only stare at the extremely thin, well-postured and short figure of a boy, who couldn't be more than thirteen years of age. He was wearing a thick, furry cloak and Merlin could see that it was expensive, something that any royal would wear. His hair was wavy and hazel-brown, eyes dark-blue and with a very intense, almost piercing look of intelligence in them.

This was no normal child.

"Peregrin", Arthur stated, approaching the child.

"Please, enter", the boy smiled politely, making way for the knights. There was another person, a weary-looking middle-aged man right behind the boy. The man's hair was similar to Lancelot's, but his eyes reminded him of frozen pools. Their colour was deep, sharp steel blue, and they seemed to drill into the servant's skin as he walked past him.

The knights, the servant and their temporary prisoner walked further into the building, and Merlin enjoyed the warmth that radiated inside the place. Although it was freezing outside, the manor's furnaces were apparently all kept to good use.

"I must say, it's good to see you again", Arthur smiled, looking down at Peregrin, who returned the look. "The last time we met, you were about the height of me knee."

"Indeed", the boy answered, politely amused.

"Nice place you've got here", Gwaine stated, looking around in the open hall.

"Thank you, sire", was the plain reply.

They were lead into a warm room with a big dinner table, that was (to Gwaine's dismay) not covered with food at the moment. Peregrin gestured them to take a seat, as he walked to take his place at the end of the table, on a comfy-looking chair that was covered with wolf pelts. The man, who Merlin now assumed to be his bodyguard, settled to standing a few feet away from the boy's chair.

"I assume you're here because of my father", the boy said, blinking his vibrant eyes at Arthur.

"That would be the reason", Arthur admitted. "I must say, you seem to be taking the situation quite well."

Peregrin's expression didn't waver. "I wasn't that close with my father, but I will surely carry on in his footsteps as a loyal servant to the throne of Camelot."

The king smiled. "I know you will. I would have never thought you'd be so…. ready. So mature."

"I'm glad to be a surprise, my lord", the boy answered dryly. "Is there anything I can get for you? The trip must have been tiring."

Arthur quickly waved his hand. "Not for now, although we would appreciate a bed for the night."

"And some food would be nice", Gwaine interrupted, giving Peregrin a cheeky smile.

"I think I can arrange that", the boy sounded amused, gesturing a servant to come closer. "Aileen, please make sure that the guests have a bed for the night, and make sure to bring food and drink to their rooms."

The maiden hastily dropped a curtsy and left the room with a silent "Yes, my lord."

"So, Peregrin", Arthur started slowly. "Do you want me to appoint you as an earl?"

The boy blinked calmly, looking the king in the eye. "I would be honoured."

"Alright", Merlin watched as the king leaned back. "In that case, I must invite you to Camelot, where I can officially appoint you as one."

Peregrin tilted his head respectively. "Of course, sire. I will look forward to it."

* * *

Arthur was given his own room when the knights were accommodated into two separate rooms. Lillian was shackled together to Percival, and seeing how Leon was worried for Percival's safety, he took it upon himself to watch over them.

Gwaine and Merlin would be sharing a room. The servant yawned, looking longingly at the soft, large bed that was waiting for him. His friend attacked the bread basket that had been brought to the table in the middle of the room.

"Well, this is nice", the warlock stated, looking around. There was a furnace in the corner, fire crackling happily.

"The hospitality here could rival even Camelot", he said, slightly surprised. "The child really knows what he's doing."

"Yeah", Gwaine stated, frowning while he munched on his bread. "There's something really weird about that kid. He's kind of scary, but at the same time he's cute as a button."

"You're just sulking because he's more mature than you", the servant smiled while falling on his bed. "And he's, what, thirteen?"

The knight shrugged and kept eating. Merlin was about to crawl under the covers, close his eyes and fall into a soft sleep, when suddenly the door opened, and Arthur hurtled inside.

"Hey, princess", Gwaine greeted, mouth full of bread.

"Ew, Gwaine", the king looked slightly disgusted when watching the knight's eating habits. Then his eyes darted to Merlin, who had already given up on going to bed early. The minute that Arthur had waltzed in, he'd known. No sleep for him tonight. Maybe he was psychic, or something, but he just knew.

"Merlin", the king said, walking closer to his bed. "Now that everybody's going to sleep, I have a task for you."

He glanced at the knight. "Both of you, if Gwaine feels like it."

The dining man glanced over his shoulder. "Sure."

"What I need you to do", Arthur lowered his voice, "is sneak into lord Ashthorne's old chambers. His things are still untouched, so you should be able to find something… if there is something to find."

The servant let out a deep, exhausted sigh. "Why the secrecy?"

"Because", Arthur's tone turned hard, "I can't go in front of Peregrin and say 'Oh yeah, by the way, you won't mind if we search your dead father's chambers for evidence that would prove him to be a slave trader'?"

Merlin pouted. "Right. But what if I get caught?"

The king patted him on the shoulder. "Don't."

* * *

It was well past midnight, and the Ashthorne estate had quieted down. The candles had been blown out; all except one. The one on Merlin's hand.

Gwaine sneaked behind him, as they slowly opened the door to the corridor. It was so different to Camelot's cold stone calls. The hallways here were warm and wooden, floors covered with beautifully embroidered rugs.

"Let's go", the servant muttered under his breath, and the two started slowly making their way towards lord Ashthorne's chambers.

There was one thing wrong with wooden houses. They creaked. Merlin grimaced, as the floor made a small noise under his step, and tried to walk with lighter feet.

"It's just behind the corner", he whispered, relieved that they'd reach their destination soon. The warlock was positively surprised about Gwaine, who was so quiet with his steps that he even beat Merlin.

Gwaine hushed him, as he grabbed the door and as quietly and slowly as possible, he opened it. Merlin was surprised it wasn't locked. Quickly they both disappeared inside, sighing in relief.

"Alright, let's-"

"Well, well", a deep, slightly amused tone interrupted Gwaine. Both of them froze still. Merlin swallowed, feeling a cold sweat climb to his forehead.

"It would seem that my young master's hunch was right", Merlin recognised the intimidating form, who stood up from the chair he'd been sitting on.

"What?" Gwaine frowned. "You knew we were coming?"

"He had a hunch", the man repeated.

Merlin crossed his arms, glancing suspiciously at Gwaine.

"Why don't we have a little chat with the master of the house, eh?" the man continued, relaxed. For some reason, Merlin didn't feel like they were in trouble, which was something he hadn't expected.

"What the hell is going on in this place?" Gwaine murmured, scratching his head as they followed Peregrin's bodyguard.

* * *

"So", the young lord Ashthorne began, sitting down on a comfy chair, wrapping around his night tunic. "It would seem I was right."

"About what?" Merlin asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I thought I recognised the woman you had with you", Peregrin stated, sipping the warm milk that someone had brought him. "Lillian, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yeah", Gwaine looked reserved. "What about her?"

The boy didn't answer at first, but then he inhaled. "I know you came here to look for evidence about my father's crimes."

Merlin swallowed, glanced at Gwaine, and then back at the boy.

"How could you possibly know that?" the servant asked. Peregrin sniffed and stirred a spoonful of honey into his milk.

"I heard rumours of Lillian", he stated. "She's not difficult to recognise, you know. The accent, the hair, the peculiar way she dresses. My father's crimes against her and all others are unforgivable. I should know."

Gwaine frowned. "What do you mean?"

Even though Peregrin usually hid behind a well-maintained mask of coldness, Merlin could see a shadow cross over his face.

"Two years ago my father tried to get rid of me", he said slowly. "I had found about his business. He decided I was too much of a threat to him, and for the next three months, I became very familiar with the slavers he was working with."

Merlin's heart grew cold, as the boy reached out his hand, revealing the scorch mark, the brand, that had been burned to his skin. He recognised it to be the same as the one on his own wrist.

"He took you to the slavers?" the servant asked coldly.

Peregrin nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "He did, but to my father's dismay, commander Micah was too good. His search party found the camp I was in, and freed the people in it."

Merlin leaned back, frowning. _Commander Micah? Where have I heard that name before?_

"Commander Micah is here?" Gwaine sounded enthusiastic. "I thought he'd retired."

Peregrin gave him a sly smile. "Not exactly."

"Sort of", blurted his bodyguard. "If my skills are needed on the battlefield, I will do my duty for this kingdom."

Both Gwaine and Merlin's jaws snapped open.

"You? You're commander Micah?" the knight asked, amazed. "Why are you his bodyguard?"

"Because", Micah sighed. "There is a possibility that someone might try to take his life before he gets his new title."

Peregrin's dark blue eyes seemed to drill into Merlin's. "Commander Micah is here just until the king officially appoints me as earl. Then he can return home to his family."

Merlin nodded, thoughtful. "I see." He remembered now - commander Micah was a war hero, known as the best marksman in the Five Kingdoms - his skills as a crossbowman didn't compare to anyone. They said that the commander had single-handedly shot down a whole brigade of enemy soldiers.

"But", the boy suddenly said. "Let's get back to the matters at hand." Merlin stiffened, as the boy took a better position in his chair.

"I know for a fact that my father leaves no evidence. He was too smart for that, and he knows that no one else's word would count against him in court", Peregrin stated bluntly. "But perhaps, if I am willing to testify against his actions now, your friend will be released from her accusations."

Merlin raised his brows. "Accusations."

"Yes", said the boy, the corners of his mouth turning up. "She's the one who killed him, right?"

The warlock swallowed, glancing at his friend. "What happens now?"

"Now", said Peregrin before Gwaine had the chance to open his mouth, "We all go to bed. I'm sure the king would appreciate it if we let him have his sleep."

* * *

" _No, stop, please!"_

 _Tears prickled behind Merlin's eyes while he was forced to listen to Rowena's panicked pleads. Strong, merciless hands were holding her down, while another grabbed her arm. A white-headed poker, just raised from the glowing embers._

 _"Stay still, you little worm, and it will hurt less", the other one grunted. Merlin couldn't move an inch; it was as if his body was frozen still. His eyes stared, wide open, as the poker was pressed against Rowena's pale, smooth skin._

 _Her agonising s_ _cream filled the air, seeping into his skull. The look on her face was distorted into a pained grimace; the tear streams very visible o_ _n her otherwise dirty face. After the poker was removed, Rowena fell to the ground, breaths coming out in cough-like barks. She started sobbing on the ground as a small bundle._

 _Mason, the boy who'd been thrown in with the two of them, tried to drown the voices of the screaming children. The boy had his hands over his ears, and hot tears fell into his ragged, dirty tunic._

 _"Come on, girl", the other one said, surprisingly gently lifting her to her feet, and walking her back towards the others._

 _The cage was gone. Now that they were getting branded, they were also getting transported elsewhere. To be sold? Probably._

 _Rowena's hands were bound, and she was then thrown into the carriage, next to the other children who'd already gotten their marks. Merlin knew he was next in line._

 _"Come on, then", the slaver grunted, grabbing his arm. The boy knew there was no use struggling - he didn't know how to use magic in his defence._ _There was nothing he could do, but to try and endure._

 _The poker was once again lifted from the cinders. Its tip was the shape of a symbol - it reminded Merlin of a four-leaf clover, but every leaf's tip had been cut off so that the symbol also looked a bit like a spider._

 _The slaver took his arm, turning his wrist towards the man with the poker. It seemed like all his senses went to hyperdrive. He smelled the sweat and a faint tint of coal coming from the man holding him still. He could see someone - a sturdy man with copper-coloured s_ _ideburns and a cold, emotionless look in his eyes - walking right in front of the carriage filled with children, turning his attention to Merlin._

 _Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his blue neckerchief. It would only hurt for a little while… or at least that's what he tried to tell himself, as the flaming hot iron was pressed against his skin._

* * *

"So you two will testify against lord Ashthorne?" Arthur's expression was cold, a little angry, even - but Merlin knew it wasn't directed at anyone else but the deceased criminal.

"Three", the servant said quietly. "I will, too."

Both Peregrin and Lilith turned to look at him with surprise in their eyes. The warlock sighed, rolling up the sleeve of his tunic and revealing the old burn mark. It was identical to the ones on the two others' hands.

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice sounded shocked, as he stared at the scar on his skin.

"I was with the same slaver ring for a year", the servant stated matter-of-factly. "I am quite certain I saw lord Ashthorne there, once or twice."

Arthur stared at him - Merlin could only imagine what was going on inside his head. The warlock had never talked to him about this part of his life. Never. It was something he'd prefer to just forget about, but now it seemed like the past had returned to haunt him.

And Merlin wasn't lying. He truly remembered now - his experience was years ago, and after burying the painful, traumatising memories so deep, he hadn't been able to connect the lord to the face that he'd seen all those years ago.

"It happened twelve years ago", he said, turning his eyes away from Arthur's. "Without Lillian, I never would have figured it out, but I'm sure of it. I saw Ashthorne there."

The king was silent. His eyes flashed from Merlin to Peregrin, from Peregrin to Lillian, then back to Merlin. Finally, he nodded.

"In that case", he started, "Lillian is free of the charges pending against her."

The woman let out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, sire."

"And the people shall know about his deception", Arthur finished. "If that's alright with you, Peregrin?"

The boy nodded. "The people deserve to know."

"This won't affect your situation as his heir", the king added. "You shall be my earl, and nothing can change that."

Peregrin tilted his head downwards. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"I expect you to travel to the citadel within the next few days", he added.

"I shall."

Lillian pulled Merlin away from the two nobles.

"Thank you", she said. "My name is now cleared."

The servant smiled wanly. "I hope that now we can leave this all behind."

The woman smiled back, a glimmer in the corner of her green eyes. "You're very close with the king to be just his servant, you know", she said slowly. "Arthur was still suspicious after Peregrin spoke, but the moment you told you saw him, he believed us."

Merlin looked down. "Don't be silly, he would have believed Peregrin. I was just one more witness, and that was enough."

Lillian scoffed playfully. "Who's being silly now?"

The warlock frowned, looking up at her. There was warmth in her expression. "He really values your word."

Of course, he did. Merlin knew that. How could he not? They were bound together by prophecies, destined to bring peace to Albion. But their friendship wasn't about destiny, hadn't been for a long time. It was about shared adventures, loyalty, and the absolute trust they had, the laughs and the secrets they shared. During his seven years in Camelot, both of them had grown so much, but they hadn't really _changed_. Arthur was still an arrogant clotpole, and Merlin was still a clumsy idiot - in addition to the fact that the first one was the king of Camelot and latter was Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer ever to walk the earth.

Merlin swallowed. He didn't want to lose this - not ever. But he knew, he'd always known that one day Arthur would found about who he was - what he was. And then everything would be different, the trust between them would shatter, and the friendship would be scarred beyond recognition.

He knew it, and it was the only reason why he sometimes hated his magic. Then Merlin reminded himself that it was everything he was, everything he'd ever been - he was magic, like his father had said.

The warlock sighed, glancing over his shoulder at the king, seeing how he stared back at him with a frown. Lilith had disappeared somewhere, leaving him alone with Arthur, and he gulped.

"You never told me", Arthur said, looking him in the eye.

"It never came up", the servant stated, fingers brushing over the burn mark. "And to be honest, that year is not something I like to think back to."

The man seemed to understand, and he nodded. "I see. Well, if you ever feel like talking about it, I'd like to hear."

Merlin glanced up at him. "Maybe one day."

The king nodded, eyes flickering away. "And this slaver organisation", he said slowly. "I'm going to start working to put it down. I'm quite certain that the neighbour kingdoms are willing to help."

* * *

"Rise and shine!"

The morning sun's beam hit Arthur straight into the eyes, as Merlin opened the curtains to his room. The king moaned, pulling the covers over his face.

"Don't do this, Arthur", the servant stated. "You know I'm going to get you out of that bed one way or another."

The king answered by growling into his pillow. "But I'm tired", he groaned as his head appeared from under the covers. His golden hair was messy, and his deep blue eyes barely stayed open.

"You shouldn't have stayed up so late, then", Merlin answered as he set the breakfast tray at the end of his bed.

A sleepy smile spread across the king's face. "Guinevere was here", he stated, voice sweeter than honey. Merlin chuckled at him.

"Nothing beats the feeling you get when you're with the one you love", he stated dreamily while taking a bite of his apple. "It's amazing."

Merlin frowned, trying to ignore the painful sting in his heart. "I know", the servant answered quietly, taking out the king's clothes.

"You do?" Arthur sounded care-free. "I didn't know you had a girl."

"I did", the warlock answered absently. "It was a long time ago, though."

"Back in Ealdor?" the king's tone had become interested.

 _Bollocks._

"No, I met her in Camelot", Merlin said quickly, avoiding the king's look.

"Well, how come I never met her?" Arthur frowned, watching his servant work.

"She died", he stated blankly, turning to look at the king, who had stopped eating and was staring at him, shocked.

"Oh", he simply said. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Look", Merlin said, turning to face Arthur. "Her name was Freya, and she died a long time ago. I was going to leave Camelot with her. And then she died."

Arthur's expression was baffled, and his face has a white hue. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Merlin swallowed. _Because she was a druid girl that all of Camelot was looking for at the moment, who was cursed to turn into a monster every midnight, and who you happened to slay in order to keep your people safe._

"Doesn't matter", he stated. "Now eat your breakfast, Peregrin's ceremony is waiting."

Arthur looked at him for a little while longer, before finally sighing and starting to stuff himself with the breakfast that the servant had brought him.

Merlin inhaled and exhaled a few times, calmly and deep. He looked out the window, where a few guests were waiting to get inside the castle. There would be a nice feast in the afternoon, to honour the new earl. Merlin had grown to like the intelligent boy. They shared the same past, but he was only glad that he hadn't turned out to be like Peregrin - cold, calculating and distant. But what he did have common with the boy, was loyalty for Arthur. Peregrin would serve the king well. He was someone they could trust.

* * *

 _"Now", Merlin hissed under his breath. The two children ran from behind the cart, quickly making their way towards the fence._

 _It had taken them a whole day to get here, and months of planning. Rowena swiped a few ginger locks off her face. Ever since Mason's death, their hearts had been burning with such rage, it would terrify anyone._

 _"There are more guards that way", stated Merlin, pointing to the right where was a shed. There was indeed a few men patrolling in the area, but he could see they were tired after the long shift, and that they could probably sneak past them._

 _"Let's crawl", Rowena suggested. The boy agreed, landing on his stomach._

 _They just needed to get to the other side of this damn field, and they'd be out of this hellish place._

 _Merlin's heart seemed to jump into his throat_ , _when the sound of warning bells echoed through the air._

 _"Those little brats have escaped!" someone yelled._

 _"Find them!" screamed the other._

 _"Shit", stated Rowena._

 _"Keep low", Merlin said, glancing at her. "They don't know we're this far. Let's just keep going."_

 _The ginger girl nodded, starting to crawl faster. The warlock followed, grimacing and grunting, but he could feel a fire inside him, burning stronger and brighter than ever._

 _It was called hope._

 _And it turned into a wild j_ _ubilation as they crawled their way to freedom._

* * *

 **Well, hope it wasn't too bad. And there will be more on commander Micah and Peregrin in the future - they'll be quite important. I got the inspiration for Peregrin's character from Ciel Phantomhive.**

 ** _mersan123_ : Indeed not a very nice past for neither Lillian nor Merlin, but I thought it'd be a nice touch. I can't help it, I'm a sadistic person. And yeah I know I might have broken Arthur's character by making him actually see something XD**

 ** _fireicewriter42_ : I'm glad you're intrigued :D And yes, as I told you like three times in the last chapter's notes, I will make the magic reveal in the near future. Be patient :)**

 ** _Taz_ : Thank you once again for your amazing review :3 You're like my favorite person. Glad you like Lillian!**

 ** _ruby890_ : Yeah I know Arthur and Merlin share a close friendship, but Arthur really needs to see his servant for what he truly is. I couldn't agree more, and the reveal is on its way. And yeah, I agree with the fact that the king is a stubborn oaf who can't admit to being friends with Merlin, but come on - everybody knows they're like brothers. Oh and yes, Uther's death is veiled in some pretty shady circumstances, but who knows if Arthur will learn the truth? Stay tuned :3**

 ** _AbuvTheClouds_ : Thank you so much :) It makes me very happy that Lillian is getting popular xD Your scar reveal wish is noted, and I will make sure to put it in before the magic reveal happens. Probably the fifth or sixth chapter. We'll see what I can come up with :P And yeah, I always have a lot of plans about my fics, but I think for me it's more about the motivation on the current story that causes abandonment. That's the reason why I'm forbidding myself from watching anything new, like Stranger Things or Black Sails. I need to focus on watching Merlin or some series like the Magicians in order to keep my motivation directed on this fic xD**

 **Well that was that. See ya in the next one, love you guys!**


	5. My scarred heart

_"The kindest of hearts_

 _have felt the most pain."_

* * *

Merlin was happy - and he was happy for one simple reason.

 _Snow_. Piles and piles of snow; powder-like, pure-white, cold and fresh-fallen snow. That's why the servant was grinning like an idiot when he stepped outside with Arthur. The knights were supposed to have training, but after the snow had fallen, the king had given them the day off to visit their families, possibly play with their children or siblings.

Most of the people in Camelot had mixed feelings about snow - the city was a breathtaking view when it was covered in snow, and the children loved it and played in it for hours - they would jump in the piles, make snowballs and fight their own wars with them (" _You will be Morgana and her followers, and I will be king Arthur, and you will be the knights!_ "), splitting themselves into teams (Why do I have to be Morgana? I want to be one of the knights!"). It was also a cause of concern; the chance of a blizzard was always possible, but it wouldn't be much different from a normal storm, just colder; the obvious fact that the people would be cold, and the animals would need extra care because of it; the snow covering and killing all the herbs from the forest.

But Merlin knew that they were a part of winter, and he was going to damn well make sure to enjoy the positive sides of it when he still could. The knights had changed into warmer cloaks and Merlin had been forced to take a cloak of his own from his small collection of clothes.

The warlock watched his own breath turn visible in the air, in the form of a vapour. He smiled and had to stop himself from turning the small vapour cloud into a tiny dancing dragon.

 _Damn the laws against for magic. Damn them. I just want to create butterflies and turn_ vapour _clouds into dragons. Merlin pouted, turning his attention back to the knights._

Gwaine, Percival, Leon and Lancelot had stayed with Arthur, but Elyan had decided to go out with his sister, the queen of Camelot, and take a stroll at the marketplace, viewing the beautiful snow-encrusted city.

Arthur yawned, glancing up at the white sky, grimacing at the brightness. The snow on the training field was mostly trampled down so that they could walk, but Merlin knew that it would still be challenging.

"Fighting in snow is in many ways more difficult", the king stated. "It's cold, it's wet, and it can affect your balance", Arthur said, eyeing at his knights. "We're going to start with a little warm-up - thirty push-ups. Get to it."

The knights sighed, rubbing their hands together in the cold, but got down and started doing their king's bidding. Merlin yawned, wrapping his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

When the knights were done, they were out of breath but looked less cold. Arthur gave them a moment of rest. Just as the king opened his mouth to give another task, a snowball connected with Gwaine's temple, causing him to lose balance and fall to the ground with a surprised yelp.

Lancelot was grinning at him by the road in front of the citadel, in a brand new, blue cloak. He was still on sick leave, and enjoyed it greatly. Gwaine narrowed his eyes at him spitefully, starting work on a snowball of his own. He threw it at Lancelot in a fit of rage. Lancelot moved to the side and ducked. He nimbly regained his balance, throwing a second snowball at his comrade. His aim was terrific, Merlin noticed, as the ball connected with Gwaine's stomach, and the knight let out a choked _ufff_ -sound.

"Hey, you'll pay for that!" exclaimed Percival, starting to work on his own snowball. To Merlin's dread, even Leon abandoned the practice and joined him. The servant quickly approached Lancelot.

"You're in trouble now", he stated, glancing at his friend.

Lancelot grinned. "Yeah, I guess I am. Will you go to battle with me?"

"Yes I will", Merlin replied with a noble tone. He glanced at Arthur, who looked frustrated for about five more seconds - but the warlock could pinpoint the exact moment the king's heart went _oh-screw-it_.

"You make snowballs, I throw", Lancelot hissed, throwing a well-aimed blow to Leon's face. Merlin nodded, kneeling behind the weapon rack for cover and starting to work on his task. Lancelot had a hard time ducking from the storm of snowballs raining to their direction. That's when Elyan decided to turn his coats, running to their aid.

"Traitor!" Gwaine yelled, and the other knights were with him. Elyan soon got to experience the rage of his comrades, who showed no mercy while bombarding him with their balls. Percival's throw hit Elyan straight in the face, and the knight fell to the ground. Lancelot helped him to safety, and soon the two were back on their feet, ready to stand against their opponents.

"For Camelot!" yelled Arthur, as his snowball hit Lancelot in the head. Despite this, the knights seemed to take a harder hit than their three opponents.

"We need to take out Merlin", said Percival with a frown, and the servant glanced at him with a worried frown. "He's the real backbone of their team. He needs to go down."

 _Oh no_.

"Cover me!" ordered Arthur, trying to peek at his servant. The king then surged towards the enemy's lair, battle cries echoing in the air as Gwaine, Leon and Percival gave their best rapid fire on Lancelot and Elyan. The two grimaced, and then Merlin could see as they aimed at the same target, landing two perfectly aimed shots on Percival's face and stomach. The big man fell on his bottom, surprised.

Gwaine yelled viciously, screaming something about avenging Perce. That's about all Merlin could hear, until his position became critically compromised.

There was a malicious grin on Arthur's face, as he reached out his both hands, full of snow. Before Merlin had the chance to wiggle his way out of his situation, the king had grabbed his feet.

"Lancelot, Elyan!" he managed to scream, as Arthur's snow-dripping hands bashed to his face. With a distressed yelp he was then lifted off the ground, carried a very short trip, and then dropped head first into the coldest, deepest pile of snow within the whole courtyard. He tried to spew insults towards the king as the snow invaded his body, but his voice was blocked almost completely by the white piles.

"You bastards!" screamed Lancelot and jumped to the king's back with a mighty roar. Merlin inhaled deeply when he got his head out of the snow, feeling the cold snow melt on his face and drip down his back. It was probably the most uncomfortable feeling he'd ever had.

Lancelot and Arthur had fallen as a pile to the deeper snow, where no one else had yet walked - they were wrestling, covered in the cold and white. Meanwhile, Gwaine, Leon and Percival had joined into a full-on attack, charging towards Elyan and Merlin. As he saw the bloodthirsty grin on Gwaine's face, he couldn't help the dread that raised to the surface, and he grimaced, trying to crawl out of the way.

" _What is going on here_?" Merlin was just being manhandled and given a second round of snow bathing when queen Guinevere's voice reached their ears. It wasn't enough to faze the others, but Gwaine and Merlin turned around to glance over their shoulders.

"Oh, hey, Gwen!" exclaimed the warlock.

Gwen couldn't seem to help the grin that spread across her face, and she laughed at the soaked knights. "Why are Arthur and Lancelot wrestling?"

"Lancelot is avenging me. It's a tough battle."

"So it would seem", Guinevere replied, seeming both amused and interested. That's when Merlin turned on his heels to help out the poor Elyan, who was being outnumbered by Gwaine and Leon.

"The pride of Camelot", sighed Guinevere, picking up the basket and gave them a fond smile. Then she started to make her way towards the citadel doors.

* * *

"It seemed like a good idea at the time", Merlin told Gaius, as he stood in the physician's chambers, soaking wet, shivering and still grinning like an idiot. The old man seemed to be lost for words and stared at his ward in disbelief. He then sighed, very deep, and turned his back on the warlock, muttering something about "the young and the stupid".

Merlin walked up to his room, leaving behind wet footprints. Gaius seemed to disapprove this greatly. The young man closed the door to his room and started to tug off his clothes that felt like they were glued to his skin.

After the task was finally over, he dried himself up, shivering in the room that suddenly felt like it was freezing. He quickly found himself a set of dry clothes, exhaling with relief as the rough fabric started to warm his skin.

"Drink this", said Gaius as the warlock stepped back into the main chamber. Merlin frowned, grabbing the bottle that the physician was handing over.

"What is it?" he asked, smelling the liquid suspiciously.

"It should make your resistance stronger", Gaius answered, arching his brow. "So that you won't catch a cold after foolishly lollygagging out there in the snow."

Merlin grinned at his choice of words. "It was worth it, though", he stated, drinking the foul-tasting potion in one go. Gaius had sweetened it with honey, but it still tasted nasty. Merlin wrinkled his nose.

"Ew."

"Stop whining, boy, and go get us some firewood."

* * *

"Come on, Merlin, we're going for a ride!" exclaimed Arthur later that afternoon. The servant was just about to be done cleaning his armour - his head cocked up in disbelief.

"You can't be serious", the black-haired man complained. "We already soaked ourselves once today. I don't fancy another round."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Stop being such a girl, Merlin", he replied, as usual. The servant narrowed his eyes, displeased.

Well, if they were going just for a calm-paced ride instead of a hunting trip, maybe it really would be a good idea. The weather was beautiful, after all.

"Fine", he finally grunted. "I'll go prepare the horses."

* * *

"Ain't this nice?" Arthur seemed to be beaming with a good mood.

"I can't believe you dragged me outside after cruelly attacking me and battering me with snow", Merlin answered with a light tone.

"You were on the enemy's side", the king answered smugly. "That's what you get for turning your coat."

"I chose the stronger side, though", the servant challenged with a smile. "We beat your royal bottomside quite nicely."

Arthur turned around, looking stunned. Merlin almost laughed at the theatrical expression on his face. "Did not!"

"Totally did", Merlin grinned back.

The king wrinkled his nose. "You all fought bravely, I give you that." Then he raised his chin. "But that does not mean you beat us."

"But we did", Merlin muttered under his breath, still amused.

The king sighed, rolling his eyes.

Merlin pouted. "Keep rolling your eyes, maybe you'll find a brain back there."

As a result of that comment, he got to ride away from the fake-angry king, who tried to kick him off his saddle.

* * *

After an hour of riding, they were getting cold, deciding to turn back. Merlin glanced up at the sky with a worried frown. Storm clouds had started to gather above them, and there was a threateningly dark colour to it.

The best part? There was a two-hour ride back to Camelot.

"Great", he murmured, wrapping his cloak tighter around his shoulders as the snowflakes started to fall.

"Let's hurry up", the king said with a frown and urged his horse to quicken the pace. Merlin gently pressed his heels against his mare's sides. She whinnied quietly and hasted her pace.

It happened after they'd been riding for maybe ten minutes. Arthur's horse stumbled on something under the stone, staggering on its feet and almost throwing the king off its back.

"Woah, easy, boy", Arthur calmed his steed.

"Everything alright?" Merlin asked with a frown.

"I think-"

The king never finished his sentence, because at that moment they were taken aback by a horrible screech that filled their ears from somewhere right beneath them. Within a second they were buried under a cloud of snow and rocks, as something emerged to the surface.

It came from under them. Merlin's attempts at trying to calm his horse down were in vain - she was crazed out, knocking her head back, eyes rolling wildly in her head.

Merlin was almost blinded by the snow, but he saw something - it had scales, a long body, and a pair of glowing, green eyes. He heard Arthur scream sharply, and Merlin vaguely realised he'd been hurt.

The warlock gritted his teeth, glancing down at the frantic animal he was sitting on.

" _ **Smyltnes**_ ", he hissed beneath his breath, eyes flashing golden. Her mare suddenly stopped in its tracks, breathing growing steadier and eyes returning to their usual, calm glow.

"Good girl", Merlin breathed out, jumping down. The snow started to settle, and what he saw was something he'd never forget.

The beast's form was similar to a snake - but the scales were sharper, coloured grey but with a slight hue of green. Its eyes glowed like double emeralds, and its long, double-branched tongue tasted the air with a hiss so powerful, that seemed to gather force from the earth itself.

But Merlin knew what this beast was. He'd read about them - it was a wyrm.

"Arthur!" he yelled, seeing his friend lying on the ground, right in front of the dangerous beast. The servant noticed Excalibur lying on the ground, way too far away from Arthur's grasp, and the wyrm's face was getting threateningly close to the king.

Merlin realised that his leg was twisted into an unnatural position, and his face widened into a painful grimace.

The wyrm opened its maw, revealing a set of slimy, sharp teeth. Merlin's magic dwelled under his skin, ready to strike the beast down-

Arthur let out a sharp yell - a battlecry - and with a mighty force, he struck his fist right on the beast's snout. Merlin's mouth opened slightly, and the wyrm threw its head back, snout wrinkling and its throat letting out strange choking sounds.

Suddenly the warlock's legs were able to move again, and he surged towards the fallen king, grabbing his arm.

"Careful, careful, hurts", Arthur gritted his teeth, as Merlin hauled him roughly to his feet, supporting him through the snow. The wyrm was still groggy, shaking its narrow, scaly head in confusion.

"In there!" grunted Arthur, pointing towards a hunters' cabin that was about fifty yards away from them.

"Oh gods", Merlin panted. His horse had galloped towards the small building and was waiting for them, knocking her head back and forth. "We'll never make it."

"Yes we will", Arthur growled, tightening their wobbly pace even though it made him grimace with agony. "What is that thing?"

Merlin swallowed, almost stumbling down to the snow with his nose first. "It's a wyrm", he said quickly, glancing back. The beast had finally cleared its head and was now staring at them viciously.

"It was probably sleeping under the ground, and we woke it up", he hissed between his teeth. "It's a creature of the Old Religion, kin to the dragons-"

Merlin's heart missed a beat. Dragons?

 _Of course. Dumb Merlin. You can command it._

Only twenty yards. The beast was aggressively slithering towards them, the warlock could practically feel its tongue licking their heels.

 _Arthur will see. You can't,_ whispered a small voice inside of him.

 _So what? It's high time he knew the truth about me, anyway,_ another argued.

"Faster!" growled Arthur as the wyrm screeched right behind him. Almost there…

With a forceful push, Merlin practically threw Arthur towards the door while he dashed away from the beast's attack.

 _"Sometimes what you are most afraid of doing, is the very thing that will set you free_ ", Lancelot's words echoed in his ears.

Just when he was about to open his mouth and command the beast, he got pulled backwards by Arthur. They fell into the building, and for a strange reason, Merlin's horse had managed to push her way into the cabin with them. The door was quite big, and there was a calming spell on her, so maybe it wasn't that miraculous.

"Close the door", hissed Arthur, as the wyrm's green eye locked onto them. Its head surged towards them, but with teamwork the two men managed to push it back, closing the door all the way to the end. Merlin panted, grasping for the lock and sliding it shut.

For a little while, the two just panted, catching their breaths and listening to the hissing and the movement outside. The wyrm was circling the cabin.

"Um, Merlin", whispered Arthur, swallowing. "Can wyrms do everything that dragons can? Like-"

He was interrupted by the ragged coughs right outside the wall on their right. It sounded like someone was choking. Then it became quiet for a while. Merlin and Arthur glanced at each other with fearful, confused expressions.

But then the air seemed to explode. A horrible screech filled their heads, and the servant had to cover his ears. The sound had several layers - it was high-pitched and rough at the same time, and it reminded Merlin of the Dorocha. Actually, the whole situation reminded him of the Dorocha - the danger, sitting in a corner with Arthur, the terribly cold environment surrounding them, breaths turning up as vapour… and the fact he was planning on doing something similar than back then, with the thing that had almost gotten him killed in the process.

After three seconds, the high-pitched layer of the screech disappeared, and what was left was a roar. Suddenly Merlin saw an orange glow from between the girders that the cabin was built of.

"Fire!" he yelled sharply, and the two of them quickly backed away from the wall. "And yes, they are that similar to dragons."

Arthur bit his bottom lip. "What do we do?"

"I don't think their fire is as powerful as a dragon's breath", Merlin thought out loud. "So I think the fact that this whole cabin is _freezing_ and the wood is wet, it shouldn't catch fire at once."

The servant wished it was true, but it wouldn't take long for that thing to burn down the whole place.

"I'm going to do something stupid and dangerous", the servant breathed out. "You stay here."

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but the warlock turned his back on the king, opening the lock and throwing the door open.

"Hey!" Merlin yelled. "Cabbage-face. Follow me!"

The wyrm turned to look at the thin figure and hissed. With that, the warlock turned around and started running as fast as he could.

 _I just need to lure it away from Arthur._

He heard the king's distant call for his name but ignored it. _Sit tight, Arthur._ Merlin glanced back at the angry beast that was still right on his back. And he ran through the forest as the wind started to get stronger and the snowfall began to thicken.

* * *

Merlin hadn't intended to fall into a frozen creek. He had only wanted to lure the wyrm deeper into the forest so that it wouldn't trouble them any longer. But there he was, sitting in the freezing water, soaking wet and an ancient wyrm hovering over him, ready to swallow him. Merlin gathered up his strength, inhaled shakily and tried to steady his tone. The warlock squeezed his eyes shut, voice turning into a low growl, that did not sound like his own.

" ** _S'enthend' apokhorein nun epelló_**!"

The wyrm that had been approaching him stopped in its tracks. It was still hovering over him, but the glow in its eyes was now dimmer. Merlin shivered with the cold, and felt his body temperature get lower and lower, but refused to blink his eyes away from the wyrm's.

" _Emrys_ ", a hissing voice suddenly whispered inside his head, and the warlock almost jumped from surprise.

" _You can talk_?" he blurted through their telepathic channel, realising too late that it must have sounded rude. The wyrm's bright green, deep eyes narrowed.

" _You are a dragonlord_ ", the beast spoke. " _I submit to the power of your voice. I bow to you, Emrys._ " With that, the wyrm tilted his head towards the ground, its snake-like body arching elegantly.

" _There's no need for bowing_ ", Merlin answered the wyrm, teeth starting to rattle in the cold. " _How long have you been asleep_?"

The wyrm raised his gaze, eyeing at the warlock. " _My brothers and I went to sleep when the Purge began_ ", it hissed. " _It was the only way to save ourselves. And now you have woken me_."

Merlin blinked rapidly. " _I'm sorry. It wasn't our intention_."

The wyrm tilted his head. " _I know, I understand. But the wind bites here. My home has changed. My brothers are sleeping, and I am alone. So alone._ " There was sorrow in the beast's voice, and Merlin felt his heart clench.

" _I know what it feels like to be alone_ ", Merlin replied, tone compassionate. " _I could help you if you want_."

The wyrm leaned closer, eyes glowing. "Help me?"

" _I could call for Aithusa. She's a dragon. I'm sure she would love a new friend_."

The beast licked the air with a thoughtful hiss.

" _What's your name_?" Merlin asked with a faint smile, despite the fact he couldn't even feel his hands anymore.

" _I am Qaidontin, the Firestarter_ ", the wyrm hissed with another small bow.

" _Greetings, Qaidontin. Now allow me to fix this_ ", the warlock replied, taking a deep breath before roaring up at the skies:

" _ **O Aithusa, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes**_!"

Even the increasing blizzard couldn't drown the power of his voice. The wyrm hissed respectively at the words. Merlin slowly and stiffly climbed up from the small creek, wrapping his hands around himself and creating a small flame on his hands to warm himself up.

" _The wind bites you too, Emrys_?"

" _Yes. Very much_."

It didn't take more than a few minutes for them to hear a high-pitched screech from the sky. Merlin squinted at the white-and-grey sky, seeing nothing but intense snowfall. Another shriek echoed in the air, much closer, and soon the warlock could make out the young dragon's figure.

Aithusa snarled softly as a greeting, pushing her wide head against Merlin's stomach. The warlock could barely believe his eyes - the white dragon had grown. She was the size of a small horse, her head being on the same level with the servant's. Her wings were healthier, no longer ragged and ripped, muscles were visible under her skin, and the colour of her scales was a brighter white, no longer the ashen shade they had been when she'd been with Morgana.

"Wow, Aithusa!" Merlin exclaimed with a grin. "You've gotten big!"

The dragon chirped happily at him, blinking her pale-blue eyes warmly. The wind was roaring all around them, so he leaned closer towards the white creature. "Look, Aithusa, this is Qaidontin", he pointed towards the wyrm that was eyeing at the dragon curiously.

"He's all alone. All his friends are gone. You know what that feels like, don't you?" Merlin looked the dragon in the eye and saw a shade of sorrow flash through them. Then she nodded, stepping closer towards the wyrm.

"He could use a friend. You think you could take care of him, Aithusa?" the warlock continued, tilting his head. The dragon snarled again, touching the wyrm with her head. Qaidontin's tongue licked the air, and he hissed quietly. Aithusa answered with a small screech and her tail swung from one side to another.

" _What a lovely youngling_ ", the wyrm said to Merlin.

" _If you hurt her in any way, I will find you and make you regret that you were ever hatched_ ", the warlock told him with a happy smile. Qaidontin flinched, hissing silently. " _I understand, Emrys. You have done me a kindness. It shall not go forgotten._ "

* * *

Arthur was beyond anxious. It had been an hour since his servant had disappeared outside, and there was still no sign of him. As if that wasn't enough, the wind was howling so hard he thought it would rip the cabin off its foundation, and the snowfall was so frequent and thick he couldn't see more than a few yards ahead if he opened the door. It was freezing inside the cabin, so he'd cleaned up the old fireplace. It wasn't the only thing he'd found - there was a nice set of wolf pelts, and he even found a rusty crossbow. Not that it was any use for him, but it was better to be safe. Excalibur was somewhere out there, and he couldn't help but to dread at the thought of it getting buried under the snow, and that Arthur would never see it again. He had grown quite fond of the sword.

The king grunted as his leg ached viciously, and he bit down his teeth. He'd had broken bones before, but it always caused agony on him. Arthur had covered his legs with a pelt to keep himself warm, but staring into the flames, all alone, hurt and cold and pathetic didn't really put his mind at ease.

 _Where is Merlin? He should be back here by now. Something must have happened to him_. Arthur dreaded to think about his servant, being mutilated by the wyrm that had been chasing them, or him stepping into a snow-covered bear-trap and bleeding out there, slowly freezing to death.

 _No. No way. Merlin's always okay_. He had to be fine, or Arthur wouldn't know what to do. His servant's horse whinnied silently, standing in the corner of the cabin, head hanging low.

"Yeah, I'm worried too", the king murmured.

His heart seemed to stop with shock as the door suddenly flung open, and a very snowy and frozen person stumbled in. Arthur recognised it to be Merlin, but he was practically caked under a layer of frost and snow.

"Hello", the servant grinned, red-cheeked. Arthur couldn't bring himself to be mad at him, even though he wanted to.

"You absolute, horrendous, insufferable idiot", the king cursed. "Are you completely out of your mind?"

"Probably", Merlin answered with a grunt. The king's eyes brightened as he pulled out Excalibur, as shiny and beautiful as ever. "I come bearing gifts, though. Hopefully, this'll do."

* * *

After Arthur was done scolding his servant, and after Merlin was done ignoring his words, the black-haired man started to peel off the clothes off of him. His tunic was completely frozen, but the fire started to melt the snow off, and it just turned into a wet mass, and his cloak wasn't doing much better. The servant sighed, and with an effort, he fought his way out of his jacket.

"You do realise that we'll be lectured by both Gwen and Gaius when we get back home", the servant groaned as he managed to get the jacket off. He placed the weary old thing near the fire to dry, next to his cloak.

"Yeah", Arthur grimaced. "She's going to be so cross. I don't know if I want to go back."

Merlin chuckled at him, reaching out to get a pelt. "You have to face the consequences for breaking your leg. I'll take a look at it, soon."

The king didn't answer, just kept staring into the fire. Merlin removed his tunic, throwing it to near the fire to dry. Arthur glanced at him, and even though he'd been sitting next to the fire for an hour, he could feel his heart freeze over when seeing his servant's thin, pale upper body.

It was full of scars. Burns, slashes, old puncture-wounds… they were everywhere, covering his skin like a spider's web.

During his life as a knight, he'd seen plenty of scarred people - his knights had many, and the king had a few of his own, too. It was just the basic rule as a fighter - you would always get scars. People he knew took great pride in them; battle scars usually brought their carriers honour and admiration.

But when Arthur looked at Merlin, who was crouching in front of the fire, poking the embers with a stick and adding a few logs in, he couldn't help the fact he felt absolutely speechless. No one had this many scars.

 _Merlin. A servant - not a knight, not a fighter of any kind, is full of scars._ When his mind was through processing, he finally managed to get something out of his mouth.

"What the hell?" his voice sounded strange in his ears, not his own. Arthur sharply leaned forwards, feeling light-headed. Merlin glanced at him, confused.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

 _What isn't?_

"What are those?" Arthur choked out, pointing vaguely at the servant's chest and back. Merlin blinked in sudden realisation, flinching slightly. The king's eyes scanned his friend's body - there was a huge circular burn scar in the middle of his chest, and some kind of a beast had left its claw marks on his side. There was a puncture wound above his right hip, made with a knife or a dagger, but too wide for a sword. A thin line starting from below his collarbone travelled to the side of his neck - someone had tried to slash his throat. Several smaller puncture wounds were covering his right shoulder, and he recognised the spot where the mace had hit his friend while they'd been riding through the Valley of the Fallen Kings. As Merlin turned around to quickly wrap the pelt around his thin frame, Arthur had a quick view of his back - he recognised a vertical whiplash split his back, and he could see the wound had been deep and painful. There were several claw marks, a few burns, and in the middle of it all - a distinguishable, oval-shaped scar from a serket sting.

"Well, Camelot is full of all kinds of dangers", Merlin's voice sounded a bit uncomfortable as he sat down, wrapping the pelt around his shoulders. "And I told you I save your life quite frequently."

The king swallowed, blinking rapidly. This was Merlin, his idiotic, bumbling good-for-nothing manservant, loyal to the point of stupidity and probably the kindest person Arthur knew. He didn't deserve to have his body full of scars - scars, that he'd apparently gotten while saving _his_ life. The next thing Arthur took notice of made his heart almost stop.

Merlin's left arm was full of burn marks. Arthur's shocked eyes took a moment to count them, and he came up with fifteen. The worst part was, that the shape of the marks was painfully distinguishable, a rearing dragon - _it was the Pendragon crest_.

"What…" the king's voice came out as a wheeze, as his mind tried desperately to find an explanation. Merlin exhaled, brushing his fingers carelessly over the marks. Some were white, several years old, but some were still reddish.

"They don't treat servants that well, you know", he said quietly. "I'm sure you know about Alistair, the person in charge of the staff of the citadel?"

Arthur frowned - Alistair was a brutish man, loud and to be honest a little disgusting, especially with the ladies, but he'd just always _been_ there. People were used to him. Arthur hadn't seen any real reason to replace him.

"Yes, what about him?" he answered, dreading for what he might hear.

Merlin sniffed, looking at his scarred arm. "It's a common policy amongst the household that if you're disobedient or you mess up enough, you'll get punished."

Arthur flinched at the words. He knew full well that his servant was clumsy and didn't seem to care a rat's arse about blood statuses or ranks, and imagined that he'd get into trouble quite often for his un-servantly behaviour.

 _But it's me who's the one in charge of Merlin. If there's a problem, people are supposed to come to me. Right_?

Merlin continued. "Most servants don't even have these. In fact, I've saved a few arms myself."

The king frowned, the strange feeling of dread still in his heart. "What do you mean?"

"There were a few times when Alistair was about to punish a child", he said quietly. "Henry, who's maybe fifteen - he failed to notice a horse was ill before it was too late, and Karliene, who's only twelve. She slipped on the kitchen floor, breaking the pile of plates she'd been carrying."

Arthur blinked a few times, his brains slowly registering what his servant was saying.

"So I took the blame for those", Merlin stated, his fingers stopping over two faded burns. "I think my pain worked as a lesson for them anyway."

The king wasn't sure what to say - his thoughts were in such a mess he was having a difficult time comprehending what the servant said next.

"Remember George?" he spoke. "The dull servant who does his duties to the spot and spent a week teaching me?"

Arthur cleared his throat, nodding. "Of course."

"He has seven", Merlin said quietly. "They're old, though - my guess is from ten years back. I think he used to be a bit like me, back in the day when he started as a servant."

Arthur swallowed, remembering full well the time he'd spent with the efficient servant. "Oh, God", he whispered.

"Why do you think most servants are so timid and dull?" Merlin continued softly. "Because if they mess up, this happens."

"But that's…" the king tried to find the right words. It felt surreal - was this happening inside his castle? Camelot's servants were being treated like animals?

"Inhumane?" Merlin guessed humorlessly. "Well, it's unfortunately quite common for the upper classes to treat servants like dogs. It's just how things are."

"I can't believe this", Arthur rubbed his face, leaning back. "Tell me. Why on God's green earth did you not come to me?"

The servant blinked, turning his eyes back to the fire. "I talked about it with the other servants", he said quietly. "They didn't want me to say anything, and I respect their wishes."

Arthur couldn't bring himself to find a reason why anyone would want to keep their mouths shut. Merlin continued:

"This has been the common Camelot policy for as long as anyone can remember", he stated. "They've gotten used to things as they are, and are afraid of change."

The king stared at him, mouth slightly open. "A kingdom where servants are tortured into submission is not a kingdom I want to rule", he breathed bitterly. "I am a rubbish king. I should have seen this."

Merlin looked guilty. "Don't do that", he whispered. "You are the best king this land has seen. You don't need to be sorry."

"Yes I do", Arthur replied, shutting his eyes tight. "My family's crest is being burnt on children." The king was quite sure he hadn't felt this horrible since his father's death. Looking his friend in the eye, he said, almost feverishly:

"I swear, when we get home, I'll make this right."

Merlin's face widened into a smile. "I'm sure."

His servant was smiling - after everything he'd been through, he was still smiling. How was that possible? On the short span of a few weeks, Arthur had learnt so much new about Merlin he was starting to feel like he didn't even know the man - which, of course, was a silly thing to think.

Arthur had always thought he knew the servant better than he knew himself. But now it seemed like he'd been wrong for a long while.

The king frowned, eyes darting back towards his servant. The revelation of the horrors inflicted upon Camelot's servants had distracted his thoughts from all the other scars that were decorating his friend's body.

"What about the serket sting on your back? Or the burn mark on your chest? Or all those knife marks?"

Merlin quickly glanced down, a strange emotion - perhaps a distant memory - flashing across his face. He reached out his pale, bony arms towards the fire - only now did Arthur realise how many scars the servant's arms carried. Numerous knife cuts along with the burns that were in the shape of the king's family crest, new and old.

"The serket sting?" he repeated slowly. "It was Morgause's fault. I was spying on her, I got caught, she left me for the serkets."

Arthur blinked rapidly, blurting out a "What?"

Merlin shrugged, glancing at the king. "She was an enemy of Camelot. I do my part in keeping this kingdom - and you - safe. Usually, I succeed pretty well."

The king swallowed. "Usually?"

"The serket thing is a good example of a time when I didn't succeed very well."

"A serket's sting is lethal", Arthur's insides had turned cold. Everybody in Camelot knew that - every once in a while a body turned up after suffering a slow death to a serket's poison. He'd never heard of anyone who had lived to tell the tale.

"I survived", Merlin stated. "Actually…" he swallowed, avoiding Arthur's eyes. "It was only saved because a sorcerer saved my life."

The king blinked, surprised.

"I didn't tell anyone about it because I had to protect my saviour", he stated slowly, eyes darting back to look at the king. "You understand, don't you?"

Arthur nodded, unable to form any kind of words. His throat felt tight, and he swallowed with effort.

"The burn happened years back, when the dragon attacked", Merlin said quickly. "And the rest… well." The servant's expression turned thoughtful.

"You are targeted quite often. Assassins, mostly. Spies. Thieves."

Arthur closed his eyes. _Please, tell me this is all a dream. I would give anything for this to be just a nightmare_.

"But I'm okay. Honestly. These all happened a while ago, and they're just scars now", the man shrugged. "You're the one whose leg is broken."

Arthur would have laughed if he had possessed the ability at the moment. _Stupid, idiotic, loyal little bugger._..

"Arthur?" Merlin was looking at him, worried. "You seem quite pale. I think we better tend to your leg, now."

The king almost laughed - his servant was looking after him, even now. Time after time. What on earth had Arthur done to deserve him? He had been the only person who'd continuously told him that he believed in Arthur. Told him that he was a great king, lifted him up during his moments of doubt. Arthur's heart filled with immense gratitude towards the thin man beside him, who was frowning at his twisted foot.

"Merlin", he said, voice a little steadier than before. "Thank you."

The servant looked up, sapphire eyes as deep as ever and mouth arching to the familiar, bright smile that Arthur had grown so fond of.

"And you're an utter idiot for going against assassins on your own", Arthur murmured. "How have you even survived this long?"

Merlin gave him a smirk. "I'm smarter than you think." The king scoffed, but he had to admit that the servant did have some wits. But enough to fool assassins, thieves and spies for as long as seven years? That was hard to believe - but he knew Merlin wouldn't lie to him. He would never.

"You always seem to have a strange idea of me spending all my time in the tavern", the servant frowned. "In truth, I actually go there very rarely, and if I do I'm always the responsible one, who makes sure that every drunk gets home safely. I don't even like alcohol."

Arthur ran his hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. _All those times I'd thought Merlin was in the_ tavern, _when he'd actually been bleeding for Camelot on some stupid and self-destructive mission_.

"Why would you keep this a secret?" Arthur asked quietly. "Why would you not want any credit for what you've done?" Merlin frowned, glancing at him.

"That's not why I do it", he answered, as if it was obvious. "I do it to keep you and your kingdom safe."

Baffled, the king stared his servant in the eye. Merlin was serious - and of course he was. Arthur had always known how loyal his friend was, but he'd had no idea of the extents it went to.

"I still should know if someone has attempted to assassinate me or tried to gather information about my kingdom", he said quietly. And he wasn't wrong - he had to know about these things. Surely Merlin could see that. The servant tilted his head.

"I always let some of the knights know. Usually Lancelot. And he takes care of the rest. Normally these things aren't worth bothering you with", Merlin answered softly.

"That's ridiculous", Arthur growled. "I want to know _everything_ that happens within my citadel. An ignorant king is as good as a useless king."

The servant sighed, being silent for a while. Then he nodded. "I understand. I'll let you know from now on."

"And why", the king spoke, tone turning angry. "Why would you fight against assassins? I've seen you in battle, you're practically useless with a sword."

Merlin looked slightly insulted, but he then shrugged, his face speaking a _fair-enough_ -expression.

"You know me. I'm stupid", the servant grinned. "But I can take care of myself. I'm still here, aren't I?"

The sight of his friend's scarred torso flashed through the king's mind and he flinched. _You can not take care of yourself, you_ _oaf. God._

A sudden idea slipped to his mind, and although a sudden movement made a painful jolt run through his leg, he barely paid attention. There was something he had to do.

 _As if this would ever pay back what you've done for me, but… I think you'll appreciate it._

* * *

Merlin frowned - what was Arthur doing? The king reached out to take something from his pouch and suddenly had a small object on his palm. He brushed over it a few times with his thumb.

"This belonged to my mother", he said quietly. "Bears her sigil." Arthur blinked slowly, then handing it towards Merlin. "Here."

Hesitantly, the servant took it, holding it at the tip of his fingers like it was something fragile. Igraine's sigil had a flying bird in the middle, and it made a smile climb to his face.

"You have it", Arthur said softly. Merlin's heart missed a beat, and his eyes darted up towards the king.

"What? Arthur, I can't-"

"Just", the king interrupted him, giving him a faint smile. "Shut up, Merlin. For once."

With a swallow, the servant looked back at the sigil, wrapping his fingers around it. Strong emotion filled him up, and it warmed him up from the toes to the tips of his ears. He looked back up at Arthur, a broad, genuine smile on his face.

 _Thank you. This means so much more to me than you could ever imagine._

"Although", Arthur grunted. "Most of this is still your fault. If you would just open that bloody gob of yours, and time to time say something that I actually should know, some of this could have been avoided."

Merlin grinned, leaning back. "Sorry. I'll keep that in mind in the future."

"You better", Arthur murmured back. "Now, it's time you tell me about the other things I didn't know until a few weeks ago."

The servant knew exactly what he meant. He meant the time Merlin had spent with the slavers, and the time he'd spent with Freya.

"Sure. Anything you want to know. But first", the warlock's eyes flashed over the king's injured leg. "I will take a look at that."

* * *

After a few painful moments, Merlin had managed to pull together an emergency cast from an old stick and leather strips he'd found. Arthur could sometimes admire his servant's resourcefulness.

"Well", Merlin started. "About the year I spent with the slavers." With a deep inhale, his friend started to tell his story.

"I was constantly together with two other kids", he explained. "Rowena and Mason. We had each other's backs. They were like a sister and brother to me."

Arthur nodded, swallowing.

"There isn't much to tell about the year there. It was horrible and hellish, and we had to work until we passed out. It was how things were done in there."

"Where exactly?" asked the king, clearing his throat.

"It was an iron mine", answered Merlin with a frown. "A big one, in the middle of nowhere. I'm still not quite sure where it was. But we stayed there, slept in the barracks. It was often cold, and we were in a constant state of starvation."

Arthur lowered his gaze, trying not to imagine the pain the young Merlin had gone through.

"But we stayed strong together", Merlin said, eyes staring into the distance. "Rowena was the strongest one of us. She kept us going."

The king dreaded to think of the fate of his friends but listened patiently as he continued.

"We were always planning on how to escape. The moment was set, but…" Merlin's voice died out. "A few days before our great escape, one of the slavers got very pissed at Mason. He hit him, hard. Mason fell and hit his head to a rock."

Arthur felt a lump in his throat. "He died?"

Merlin nodded, staying quiet for a little while. "Mason wanted to go back to his parents", he said. "Rowena and I promised to each other that we'd go visit them, telling about Mason's death and about what had happened to him. And…" to Arthur's surprise, his servant smiled faintly. "Mason used to have this stone around him all the time. We didn't get what made it so special, but he used to call it his good luck charm. We didn't think it worked very well, seeing where he was after all."

Merlin looked down at his hands, twiddling with the sigil Arthur had given him. "Mason liked to think that despite the fact he was doing forced labour, he still had two great friends there for him."

Arthur smiled at the thought and let out a small laugh. "Sounds like something you would do."

Merlin shrugged. "I was reckless. Mason was careful. Rowena was... well, both, depending on the situation."

The king leaned back as his friend continued.

"Well, Rowena and I escaped the night after Mason died. We had a whole year to plan for it, and we did it smoothly. They didn't catch us. We got free."

Arthur frowned because Merlin's expression wasn't any brighter. The opposite, in fact.

"The only problem was…" the servant swallowed. "That night was the coldest one of the whole month. Winter was only barely over, and it was freezing. We were in a forest, and found shelter from a shack", he explained. "Not one like this, it was smaller and draggled. Only offered some protection against the wind."

Merlin looked down, fingers brushing over the sigil again. "We tried to keep each other warm, but it wasn't much use. We were both hypothermic, and drifted to sleep."

Arthur's heart clenched at the expression on his friend's face. "We were found by a friendly hunter the next morning. I woke up. Rowena didn't."

The king inhaled sharply, feeling the pain of the memory practically radiating from his friend. But when he looked up, the sapphire eyes were dry.

"You have to understand, that Rowena was like my sister. She was an orphan, so we made a plan that I'd bring her home to Ealdor with me, and she could live with me and my mother", he said. Arthur sighed, quite sure he'd never felt such compassion towards anyone.

"I'm sorry", he said quietly. "I know what it feels like to lose a sister."

Merlin glanced up at him, smileless. "It hurts. But you get through it."

Arthur nodded, ignoring the painful sting in his chest, still reminding him of Morgana. He suddenly realised that he was putting Merlin through terrible amounts of pain by making him relive these moments. The king opened his mouth, about to call it a night, but his servant was quicker.

"And Freya was a druid", he blurted out. The king blinked a few times, confused, but waiting for his friend to continue. "She was the one that people were looking for. A bounty hunter had captured her, and I freed her."

A few years ago Arthur would have been angry at this revelation, but now he just smiled, simply because it sounded so _Merlin_. _Of course, he would set free a druid girl._

"She looked so helpless, so… lost", Merlin added a log to their fire. "I had to help her."

The king frowned, as he started to poke around his memories. "Wait, wasn't that the same druid girl, that…"

His heart grew colder than ice when the sudden realisation hit him. "No", he whispered. "Please tell me it wasn't."

There was a sad smile on Merlin's face. "I told you she was sick", he said quietly. "I just didn't want to say cursed. Freya had been attacked by a man, and she killed him in self-defense. The man's mother found out, and cursed her to turn into a Bastet every midnight", Merlin explained. "A magical monster, that had an insatiable hunger to kill."

Arthur swallowed, closing his eyes. Please, no.

"I was going to leave Camelot with her", he said, looking down. "Someplace where she would be safe… from the people who tried to hunt her down. And also safe from killing others. We were going to find a way to break her curse."

The king nodded, raising his gaze. He knew what was coming, but didn't want to even think about it. Merlin's expression was full of grief, as he spoke.

"Freya was the opposite of cruel. She was a gentle person, and did not deserve the fate she got." He glanced at Arthur, and the king forced himself to look him in the eye.

"I think you know what happened next", he said quietly. The king realised there wasn't hate in his voice - only sorrow.

"I remember her", the king whispered. "I landed the killing blow." Before turning into the Bastet, he remembered the druid girl had indeed been beautiful - she'd had a pale skin, brown eyes and lovely features. _And Merlin was in love with her. He was in love with her, and I killed her._

A small voice inside his head said that he'd done it to protect his people. A monster had threatened his city, and he'd done his duty as its protector.

But it didn't make him feel better, not in the slightest.

Merlin sighed, leaning back. "I'm not angry at you, Arthur", he said, as if reading his thoughts. "I was at first, but I knew the kill was justified. She was a good person, but the beast she turned into, was not." Merlin looked down, the reflection of flames dancing in his sad eyes. "I was with her when she died."

Arthur nodded with a tight throat, twiddling the hilt of Excalibur. "You didn't tell me because you thought you'd get thrown into the dungeons for aiding a druid girl." It wasn't a question - it was a statement.

Merlin smiled shortly. "That's a reasonable assumption, isn't it?"

Arthur nodded, staying silent for a while. The servant continued:

"And I think I'm safe by now."

The king rubbed his face, giving him a sigh. "You really should talk to me more."

Merlin glanced back, giving him a genuine smile. "I really should, shouldn't I?"

With that, the skinny man pulled on his now-dried up red tunic and then starting to put on his jacket. The storm wind was still howling outside, probably burying their cabin under the snow the very minute. Arthur sighed, grimacing at his injured leg as he tried to move his position.

"Well, you won't be running around for a few weeks, but I think you'll be alright", the servant stated as he saw the king's expression. They glanced at Merlin's sleeping mare, that was blocking their exit.

"We should learn from her", the servant smirked. "Come on, let's get a few hours of sleep before we need to go face the wrath of Gwen and Gaius. They must be worried sick."

Arthur grimaced again at the thought and lay on his side. Merlin added the rest of the cabin's logs into the fire before lying down, wrapping the cloak around himself.

The blond man was so tired he knew that any other time, he'd be deep asleep in a matter of minutes. But now? Arthur's head was so full of spider webs, his thoughts lying as a mess inside him. He squeezed his hand into a fist, unable to shake off the sight of Merlin's scar-covered body. He would have a person to fire as soon as he got back into the citadel. Forgive me, the king thought, looking at his servant who now had a peaceful smile on his face. He looked tired and restful, Igraine's sigil still clutched in his hand. Arthur smiled.

* * *

 **Phew. That was a whopper to write. There might be some mistakes, I'm writing this so late and I'm super tired. I usually notice the shit I mess up and fix them when I can :'** **DD**

 **Well, I hope you enjoyed. I have always wanted to write a snow fight between Camelot knights. Even they need to live a little. The chapter turned out to be much much longer than it was supposed to be... I'm sorry xD Also, I'm glad that everybody seemed to like Peregrin! He will** definetily **make appearances in the future.**

 **But I think some good old bromance was much needed in this fic, and we all love them. The part where Arthur gives Merlin his sigil was actually a scene that was supposed to be in the series, but it was deleted :c Anyway, I decided to add it here... it just seemed to fit, you know? Oh well.**

 ** _mersan123_ : Thank you once again for your review :3 I'm thrilled that you liked it, and I hope you'll be satisfied with the future chapters.**

 ** _AbuvTheClouds_ : Wow, thank you so much for the review! :D It's awesome how much you analyze my writing, you make it sound so cool xD Hopefully you like my version of the scar fic. I could have written more on it, but I had to squeeze in the parts about Freya and Rowena and Mason... But anyway, **hopefully **I didn't disappoint!**

 _ **angel-castiel-r**_ ** _ules-the-world_ : I must say, I agree with your name. Castiel is amazing ;3 But yeah, I'm glad you like it, it means much to me.**

 **Well, the magic reveal _almost_ happened. Don't worry, it's closing in. Maybe a few more chapters, and then you have what you ask. Anyway, I hope I didn't disappoint - see you soon!**


	6. Here beneath the Northen Star

_Our questions ricochet_

 _Like broken satellites_

 _How our bodies, born to heal_

 _Become so prone to die?_

* * *

You know", Gwaine slurred, more than a little tipsy, cider-mug half empty.

"What, Gwaine?" Arthur sighed, sipping his ale with a grumpy expression. Out of all the knights, he was the least drunk one. Merlin was their noble guardian, drinking only cranberry juice.

"I had a dream about Merlin last night", the knight continue, eyes unfocused. The servant raised his gaze, amused. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, and in it", Gwaine continued. "Arthur knighted you. You became Sir Merlin."

The servant burst out a laugh. "That's horrible."

The king seemed to be a little less amused (Perhaps he didn't think knighting Merlin was a thing to joke about, after the revelation of his scars. At least that's what he liked to imagine.) and took another sip of his drink.

" _Sir_ Merlin", Elyan giggled. "That's amazing.

" _Sir_ ", repeated Percival. Merlin grinned at their behaviour. He could never be a knight - it was a great honour and everything, but he was not a swordsman. Merlin was a sorcerer, and he wouldn't change a thing about his position on this group. He loved the fact he had six knights he could call his friends.

"Stay still, sir Leon", an annoyed, partly muffled order from Lillian stopped the squirming knight.

"My apologies", Leon replied. He looked somehow dreamy, sitting on the floor, blue eyes wandering around the room. Lillian was sitting on a chair behind him, braiding his copper-coloured hair. She wasn't doing a very good job, the braid was all crooked, but it was still a braid.

"Hey, Lillian, why is your hair so short?" slurred Gwaine, leaning forwards.

Lancelot gave his fellow knight a kick to the knee. "Gwaine, you oaf, you can't just ask people why their hair is short."

Lillian smirked at them. "Well, ye see me, lads, me hair used to be so long it could reach me bum", she stated. "But, as ye kno', me is a fighter."

Percival and Gwaine raised a mug to that, and Lillian smiled modestly. "The hair got in the way. This one bandit almost killed me because me hair got stuck on 'is armour. Can't have that 'appen again."

"Ah", the knights nodded in unison. "That's very practical of you."

"I know", the woman replied, sticking her tongue out in focus as she was working on a particularly challenging bit in Leon's hairdo.

Merlin sighed, drinking the rest of his juice and looking around. The Winking Wyrm was quite stuffed with people - there was usually a big crowd whenever the king himself left the castle. Camelot had finally started to recover from the war, and the people's spirits were up.

That's when a gorgeous woman in a white gown started approaching them. Merlin knew she was the waitress. Her hair was blonde, but it was so pale that the colour was almost white. She had soft-blue eyes and a fair, pale skin and a gorgeous, thin frame. And she was the main reason why the Winking Wyrm even had customers - lonely men came to stare at her with longing looks, and even though she was sweet with them, she made sure that things didn't get further than that. Not that Merlin himself would care, but he'd heard people talk about her beauty.

She walked quickly to their table, eyes sweeping over them until they stopped at the only female in their company.

"Lillian", the woman said, frowning her delicate brows and pouting her light pink lips.

The small, short-haired woman looked up at her, and her freckled face widened into a smile.

"Ah, Clairette", she said with a voice as sweet as honey. Merlin glanced at Gwaine, who had stopped gawking at the waitress and instead turned his attention to Lillian, very confused. Clairette reached out her hand, and Merlin's friend grabbed it eagerly.

"Sorry, Leon", the woman said with a smile. "I'll finish you up later."

With that, Clairette led Lilith to a rentable room at the back of the inn and closed the door behind them. The knights, the king and the servant stared behind them, awestruck.

"She _didn't_ ", Gwaine whispered. "She did _not_ just go to bed with Clairette."

Merlin started to chuckle. "Yes, she did."

Gwaine's crushed expression was highly amusing to him.

It had been a few weeks since Arthur and his little detour in the woods. Gwen had already arranged search parties, who had left at dawn and ran into them. Gaius had murmured something spiteful under his breath while tending to Arthur's broken leg. The king now had crutches, and his movement was very wobbly - but luckily his loyal knights helped him every step of the way. Gwaine had carried the king all the way to the tavern, despite his angry protests. His leg was almost healed, and Merlin had to say that he'd been more insufferable than usual. The cold and the limitations in his mobility had given him a terrible mood - but luckily Guinevere had spent a lot of time with him and that had partially helped in making him tolerable. Arthur would get the cast off in just a few days, but the king seemed more impatient as ever, pouting on his chair and slurping his drink.

"So, _sir_ Merlin", Elyan slurred. "You're leaving tomorrow, right?"

Gwaine's head snapped forward. "Leaving? What?"

The warlock sighed. "I told you, Gwaine. Arthur has, in his sudden fit of mercy, given me the week off to visit my mother in Ealdor."

The knight frowned before he suddenly nodded slowly. "Ah, yes. You did tell me that."

Merlin shook his head, smiling softly. He glanced at the sulking king.

"Arthur, you'll be alright, won't you?" he grinned.

The king glared at him. "Obviously. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much."

The servant raised his eyebrows, glancing down at Arthur's casted leg. "Pardon me, sire, but I will have to disagree."

Arthur glared at him again, narrowing his eyes. Merlin sighed, turning towards him.

"Stop moping. You'll get the cast off in a few days."

The king pouted. "It's three days. I can't take it anymore, Merlin." His blue eyes had a suffering undertone. "It _itches_. I know that my leg is healed, Gaius' treatment has worked flawlessly."

The servant smirked. "He's a physician, he knows best. You cannot take the cast off before he says it's okay."

Arthur didn't answer, just took another slurp of his ale, still looking gloomy.

"You've lasted this long", Merlin stated, turning away. "It's just a few more days."

"And you're leaving for a week", the king muttered.

"Yes I am", the servant exhaled with a smile. "You'll be fine, just find another servant to boss around for one week."

The king rolled his eyes, glancing at Gwaine who was still staring longingly at the closed door, which led to the room where Lillian and Clairette were probably making sweet, sweet love.

"Stop that, Gwaine", he grunted. The knight jumped, looking back at him.

His tone was sad. "Give me a break, princess. My heart's been broken."

* * *

Merlin inhaled deep, tasting the cold forest air. It filled his lungs, refreshing his mind and clearing his head. In just a few short moments he'd arrive in Ealdor. A sudden thought filled his mind - there was something he could do before reaching the village.

Aithusa. He hadn't heard anything of the young dragon ever since he'd left her with Qaidontin, the lonely wyrm. Where were they now? How were they doing? Were they alright? Questions that he wanted an answer to.

Merlin closed his eyes, focusing his mind. He could feel the earth breathing magic, connecting with his own. The warlock knelt down, letting his mind fly around with his magic.

 _Where are you, Aithusa? Are you alright?_

He felt the dragon's presence - she was still inside Camelot's borders, and when Merlin touched her mind, he could feel her thoughts were joyful and warm. The warlock smiled - she was happy. She was okay.

Merlin opened his eyes, breaking the connection. He breathed calmly for a while, before standing up and getting back on his horse. The mare sighed as he climbed on.

"Don't worry, Astra. We're there soon", he spoke with a low tone, patting the horse's neck.

* * *

A smile climbed on Merlin's face, as the small village formed in front of him. Smoke was rising from the biggest house in the village; it belonged to the family of an old farmer, Eamon. He'd never particularly liked Merlin, and the servant knew that the old man knew about his gifts. Many of Ealdor's older folk knew.

Suddenly something caught his attention, making him frown in concern.

There were guards around the village. They were keeping their good distance to the houses and were wearing Essetir's colours. Now when Merlin looked closer, he realised that there was no one outside. No children playing in the snow, no men taking care of livestock, no women gathering in groups to exchange food or potions or just to talk. His home village looked dead - apart from the smoke coming from Eamon's house.

 _What is going on here?_ Dread rose inside his chest, and he urged Astra forward.

Merlin reached the bottom, tying his horse to a tree trunk, well away from the village. The warlock thought it would be best to first sneak into the village without notice, and then talking to the people inside. There had to be someone in there.

 _Have the villagers been driven out of Ealdor? Are these guards just bandits, dressed in Essetir's guard uniforms as a disguise? Where the hell is everybody?_

Merlin reached the place where the forest ended, and the fields began. The guards were standing a good twenty feet away from the fence that was circling the village. He knew that the best way to sneak on the opposite side of where he was, taking cover from the trees and the bushes that licked the edges of the houses there. Merlin swallowed, hissing a spell with a low voice:

" _ **Ádeorcian mec háligreft, mec æt þín clypnes, ástýre mín féðelást, bæc friþcandel æwierp**_!"

He felt the familiar burning sensation behind his eyes as they flashed golden, the spell taking effect. Merlin started making his way towards his destination, carefully staying away from the guards. The spell would make him harder to detect, that was certain, but it didn't turn his invisible. The shadows hid him, and the magic muffled every noise he made. That would have to do.

Merlin reached the back of the village - still no sign of people. Two guards were standing in his way, expressions stiff. He frowned, eyes flashing gold again. His magic made sounds of strong ruffling and snapping twigs behind the nearby bushes. The two guards immediately tensed, looking at each other.

"Who goes there?" they called out, attention directed elsewhere. Merlin used the situation to his advantage, climbing over the fence and quickly sneaking behind the nearest building.

 _Are they being held captive_? The warlock's chest was filled with the choking sense of fear - was his mother alright?

Merlin made his way towards Eamon's house. There weren't any guards inside the village, which he found very odd.

This was just way too strange.

Merlin reached the sturdy house, peeking inside. He was faced with a warm glow - the fireplace was kept to good use, and it seemed like the whole village had gathered to old Eamon's hall. He swallowed - the man himself was at the front, talking to the rest of them indignantly.

 _There are no outsiders there. These are just… the people of Ealdor._

" _ **Ic béon ansíen**_ ", Merlin whispered, exhaling as he felt the veiling of his magic leave him. The effect of his spell left the warlock's body. Merlin glanced over his shoulder, frowning, before marching to the front door and giving it a firm knock.

* * *

"Who is it?" he heard a panicked, shaky voice ask.

"It's just Merlin", the servant answered carefully. "Hunith's son."

"Merlin?" he heard a muffled, fearful voice from behind the door. It was flung open with force.

The warlock stared into the shocked, blue eyes that belonged to his mother. She looked tired and thin, and Merlin could see her trembling.

"Mother", he approached with the sense of worry and concern consuming his senses. Hunith was afraid - he could see it in her eyes. Merlin reached out his hand to touch her, but she backed away.

"Merlin, you can't be here", she breathed. "How did you get in? The guards are supposed to stop everyone from entering."

Merlin furrowed his brow, taking another step towards her. "I was coming to visit when I saw them - I thought the village had been taken over. I had to sneak in and make sure."

Hunith had started to shake her head violently - there were pained tears in her eyes. "No, no, no", she brought her hands to her face. "This can't be happening."

All colour had run from Merlin's face, and he placed his hand on Hunith's shoulder.

"Could somebody", he said quietly. "Please tell me what _in the name of all that is holy_ is going on here?"

The people of Ealdor looked at each other. Most of them were familiar faces, but there were new ones, too. About thirty people in all.

"We're sick", said someone with a voice barely louder than a whisper. Merlin turned to look at Eamon, who continued:

"King Lot has ordered to have us stay locked in the village."

Merlin widened his eyes, touching his mother's shoulder gently.

"Four have died, six are ill", Hunith said, voice shaking. "They're inside that room."

She pointed towards a door at the back of the house. "We're taking care of them as well as we can, but…"

She turned to look at his son. "Lot's physician, Moira, came here to examine them. She said that the illness is nothing like she's ever seen."

"Moira said we couldn't let this spread outside this village", said Olinda, a friend of his mother's. "That we'd have to send word to the citadel. She sent her horse back to the city, along with a note that she wrote while wearing gloves."

"Gloves?" Merlin repeated before realisation hit him. "Of course. So the note wouldn't carry the sickness into the city."

"That was three days ago", Eamon said quietly. "The physician died yesterday."

Merlin stared at him, mouth slightly open. "Moira died of this illness?"

Hunith lowered her gaze. "Yes. She did her best in trying to find out what it was, how to treat it… but she caught it almost immediately herself."

"So it's able to bite through even to someone with as strong resistance as a physician", Merlin muttered with a frown, half to himself. "What is king Lot going to do about it?"

"We don't know", Eamon said, voice hard as ice. "Probably going to leave us all here until every one of us has died, and we won't be his problem anymore."

"We're going to die in here, aren't we?" asked a little girl, very quietly. Her big, wet eyes looked up at him.

Merlin swallowed, looking from one pale and weary face to another. "No", he stated. "I'm going to make sure no one else dies. I'll send a word for Gaius, he can help, and king Arthur can deal with any political quarrels that may ensue."

Some of the villagers looked relieved, a spark of hope igniting behind their eyes, but most of them weren't convinced.

"But Moira had a lot of time, and she didn't have a clue of what was going on", said Hunith, looking up at Merlin. "She has as much experience as Gaius, and she had three days to try and figure it out."

The warlock looked down, softening. "No matter what it takes", he said calmly. "We'll get through this."

He could see that Hunith wanted to believe him, really did, but just couldn't bring herself to have hope. The woman wrapped her arms around Merlin's neck, and he hugged her tightly.

"We're all carrying the disease", grunted Eamon. "It's just a matter of time before someone else starts showing symptoms. And there is a very little chance that old Trevor lives to see tomorrow", he added, taking a glance towards the room at the back.

"I'll go take a look at them soon", Merlin promised. "I've been a physician's assistant for seven years. I should be able to ease their pains at least a little."

 _And I am Emrys, supposedly the most powerful sorcerer ever to walk the earth. I defeated Nimueh, Cornelius Sigan and Morgana - but now I have to cure a plague. And I can do it - can't I?_

"But first", he took a glance at the villagers. "I'll go and have a word with the guards."

* * *

"Hey!" yelled Eamon, making the nearest guards turn around. "You're not doing a very good job. This little weasel slipped into the village, right under your noses."

Merlin stepped out, raising his eyebrows. _Weasel_?

"What?" the other one yelled sharply. "That's impossible."

"Here I am", the warlock answered dryly.

"Well, I hope you're happy with yourself", the guard's tone was acerb. "Because now we can't let you out."

"Yes, so I've been told", Merlin replied, walking closer and stopping by the fence. "But there's something I need done."

The guard glanced at the other. "I need someone to take word to Gaius, the court physician of Camelot."

There were four guards now gathered together to face them, but the others remained on their spots. "We're under the orders of king Lot", they answered coldly.

"No, listen", Merlin's tone was frustrated. "I'm King Arthur Pendragon's personal manservant, and I think he should know about this." The warlock dug up Igraine's seal from his inner pocket, showing it to the guards and held his chin up. They seemed to recognise the sigil, nodding carefully.

"Gaius should come here. He can get to the bottom of this; I know he can", Merlin said slowly.

For a while, the warlock stared into the leading guard's green eyes. He was thinking, Merlin knew it. Wondering if he should leave for this.

Do it, Merlin's gaze didn't waver.

"I can't", he said, clearly sorry. "I'll make sure your request is taken to King Lot, but I can't ride to the neighbour kingdom's territory just like that."

The warlock's shoulders slumped. "How long will that take?"

"The next guards should arrive within few hours", he answered. "From there, I can personally ride back to the citadel and ask for King Lot's orders. I shall return tomorrow to bring you his answer."

Merlin inhaled, nodding. This was the best he could get for now, and reluctantly he had to admit that the guard was being very reasonable.

"Thank you", the warlock said quietly. "I understand."

With that, Eamon and Merlin returned inside.

* * *

People had returned to their own houses, but the sick ones stayed at Eamon's. The healthy villagers tried their best to stay away from them and from each other in general. Merlin had become the unofficial physician of the bunch and tended to the sick ones.

He'd never seen anything like this before. With the four dead ones, the cause of death had been the fever, and it seemed to be the most violent symptom. The second was the fact that they could barely keep anything inside their stomachs - only small amounts of soup seemed to do the trick, and even that sometimes failed, forcing the food back up. The third symptom was the coughing - violent fits - the coughing also sounded wet, which implied fluid in the lungs. Most of them had also complained about severe soreness in their limbs.

Merlin had mixed an elixir from elderberry and dried linden flowers that he'd found from Moira's satchel, and brought it to the sickly ones. Another thing he'd noticed was Moira's notes - they should prove useful. The bodies had been taken to the shed at the back of the village. The warlock sincerely hoped it wouldn't the corpses wouldn't get any more company.

"This should bring down the fever a little", the warlock murmured as he poured the steaming drink into a cup.

" _ **Éadigan**_ ", he whispered, eyes quickly flashing gold. Merlin turned to face the first patient - an old man called Trevor. He seemed to be asleep, but the pained expression on his wrinkled face and the irregular rising and sinking rhythm of his chest told Merlin otherwise.

"Here", he whispered softly, supporting the man's head with his hand. The warlock brought the cup the man's dried lips, making sure he got at least some of it down. The second to fall ill, a fourteen-year-old girl called Nolana, had suffered through a series of painful convulsions. Merlin could only pray that the others would be spared.

The warlock had written it down - three of his patients had caught the sickness sometime yesterday, and one had fallen ill the very morning, and one the night before. Their symptoms weren't as severe, but Merlin could see how they were getting weaker and weaker every moment.

The servant bit his bottom lip, pouring more elixir into the mug and bringing it to Nolana's mouth. The girl whimpered in her fever-induced sleep - her eyes rolled restlessly behind her closed eyelids, and Merlin's heart ached for the young girl.

" _ **Freoðoþeáw bréosthord**_ ", he whispered, pressing the tips of his index- and middle finger on Nolana's forehead. Merlin felt the heat almost radiating from the girl, and he squeezed his eyes shut as they flashed golden. Within a few seconds, Nolana's restless movement eased, and her breathing grew steadier. Merlin leaned back, bringing a wet cloth on her forehead. She'd sleep soundly for now.

He knew this was bad - Merlin wasn't a physician, despite the fundamental knowledge he had. And restoration and healing magic had never been his strongest area. Of course, he'd had several cases where he'd been forced to use powerful healing spells to save Arthur's life. Painful memories flashed through the warlock's mind - moments, when he'd thought he had lost the king. This sickness also reminded Merlin of the magical plague that had raged in Camelot, all those years ago. He had cured Gwen's father by using magic, but that had almost gotten her killed. Miracle recoveries caused suspicions of sorcery, but Merlin knew that right now it was subsidiary. He had no means of doing the same kind of magic as back then when he'd healed the queen's father - there were no materials. But what other choice did he have but to try?

The warlock exhaled, moving next to Trevor and bringing his hands to hover over the old man's chest. Magic swam in his fingertips, begging for release as he started the incantation.

" ** _Níed butan þæs ádlþracu, áclænsian þes bánfæt_** ", Merlin's vision was drowned in white light, as the power of his magic blinded his sight. The voice leaving his throat sounded like hollow hissing, low and ancient. " _ **Ágíeman hwá béon byrstig innoþ**_!"

Merlin gasped as the magic released, flowing deep into Trevor's body. Out of breath, muscles suddenly turning numb and exhausted, the warlock pulled back, eyes darting to the elderly man.

Trevor's eyes flickered open, confused. "What's going on?"

Merlin's muscles trembled with effort, but his smile was bright and his laughter weak and silent, but real. "You're better."

* * *

Hunith's cabin, Merlin's childhood home, was just like the year before when he'd last seen it. Nothing had changed. That's what he liked about Ealdor - everything remained the same. The people were just like they used to be, the landscape was just the same as the snowy afternoons when he and Will used to play together and build snow fortresses.

Merlin sat by the end of his old bed, thoroughly exhausted by his previous spellwork. Trevor seemed to have taken several, long steps towards recovery, and the others were manageable - tomorrow he would heal Nolana.

The warlock lifted his head as the form of his mother appeared in the doorway. Merlin smiled faintly, getting on his feet.

"We'll be alright", he said quietly, grabbing her mother's hand and leading her towards the fireplace. Hunith sat down in a chair with a deep sigh.

"You cured Trevor, did you not?"

Merlin nodded. "I did."

"I'm glad", she answered, stroking the man's raven locks with the back of her hand. "I'm proud of you, Merlin. You've grown so much. You're no longer my little boy."

The warlock gave her a soft look. "I'll always be your little boy", he said fondly. Hunith's lips arched into a smile.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited sooner", Merlin stated, turning his eyes back into the fire. "Camelot has been so busy with the war. But now all of that is over, Morgana's dead, and life is getting back to normal."

The man stopped, scoffing. "Or at least it was."

Hunith breathed out, leaning back in her chair. "I was so worried about you, you know." Her voice was quiet. "I know how you put yourself at risk at Arthur's side. I was dreading that one day I'd receive a letter from Gaius, saying you have fallen in battle."

Merlin took her mother's hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm not going to die, mother", he smiled. "I promise."

Hunith looked at him, two pairs of sapphire blue eyes drilling into each other. "I worry about you", she whispered. "All the time."

"I worry about you, too", Merlin replied under his breath.

So far he had left his mother out of the whole Emrys-thing. She'd just get worried - but now Merlin was starting to doubt his decision. She was his mother - she had a right to know. And his burden as Emrys was getting harder to carry with every step. There weren't too many people Merlin could talk about it. He sighed deeply, turning to look at her.

"Mother, I should tell you something."

* * *

Arthur could barely stand still as Gaius examined his leg. There was still a big bruise covering his shin, and the muscles felt weak, but the king knew he could walk.

Finally, the physician pulled back.

"Well?" asked Gwen, glancing towards her husband.

"Try not to do anything too challenging", the old man sighed. "But yes, you're free to walk. Come here every morning for at least the next two weeks to have it examined, and if it becomes sore, you must tell me immediately."

Arthur nodded vehemently. "Absolutely. Am I free to go?"

Gaius narrowed his eyes, staying silent for a while. "Yes. You can go."

Yes! Arthur jumped to his feet and got a very stern look from the physician as an answer. He swallowed, taking a slow step. The leg felt oddly weak, but it wasn't hurting. The king grinned at Gwen, who exhaled with a fond smile.

"I'll keep an eye on him, Gaius", she promised, grabbing Arthur's hand.

"I trust you, Gwen", Gaius replied, turning his attention back to a book that was open on his desk.

That's when the door to the chambers flung open, and a very out-of-breath sir Leon stumbled inside.

"My lord", he panted. "And my lady. Gaius."

"Leon", the three people greeted in unison. Arthur frowned, squeezing the knight's shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

"Quite well, my lord", Leon swallowed, straightening his back. "You're both needed in the throne room. We have a messenger." The knight kept a small pause, blue eyes glimmering nervously. "From Essetir."

Arthur frowned, expression growing sharp. He hadn't had much of a chance to get to know Essetir's new king, Lot, but so far he had seemed like a reasonable ruler. Was Camelot under attack? Was Essetir under attack?

These thoughts raced through his mind as he marched towards the throne room, barely acknowledging Gwen's quiet warnings not to wear out his leg. He walked with a barely noticeable limp, but Arthur knew that with time it would disappear.

The king arrived at the stone hall, reaching out his hand to Guinevere, who grabbed it with narrow eyes. The queen of Camelot took her place on Arthur's side as he seated down.

"Let them in", the man nodded at the guards in front of the main entrance. They went to work, pulling open the huge oaken doors.

In arrived a weary-looking man, donned in Essetir's colours. There had been a time when this kingdom had been an enemy of Camelot when Cenred led it, but now Arthur had hope that the peace between them was a lasting one.

The man walked closer, and Arthur leaned forward, reserved. The neighbour kingdom's messenger bowed in front of him, before starting to talk:

"I bring news on behalf of King Lot of Essetir. I am grateful to have an audience with Camelot's king and queen."

Arthur nodded, impressed at the respectful manners. "I am eager to hear what you have to tell."

The man raised his gaze, and the king couldn't help but notice that he was dripping snow all over the floors. The man must have been riding for a long time out there. Guinevere seemed to have noticed the same and gestured for a servant to come closer. She started to give orders to arrange a guest room for the Essetir's emissary.

"A village called Ealdor, quite close to the border of Camelot has been put to quarantine."

Arthur's heart had skipped a beat during the word _Ealdor,_ and Gwen's head snapped towards the man.

"What?" the queen breathed. "Why?"

The man looked confused. "You know the place? It's quite a small village, I didn't expect you to recognise the name."

"We've both been there", said Arthur, swallowing hard. "My servant should be there right now."

The messenger gulped. "Yes, your servant. He's the one who suggested king Lot should turn to your aid."

Guinevere nodded, leaning forward. "What has happened?"

"There is a sickness", the man stated, voice turning grim. "It already took the life of our court physician, who went into the village to treat the patients. She went unprepared - she was old, and her body couldn't take it."

Arthur heard his heartbeat in his ears.

 _Merlin is in there._

"King Lot is requesting aid from Gaius", the man continued. "In hopes that he could find out what is killing the people of Ealdor. No one is allowed in or out of the village, but Gaius' ward - your servant - is yet to show symptoms, and is able to act as a middleman."

Arthur swallowed, a tightness covering his throat. Gwen glanced at him before turning back to King Lot's man.

"We'll help", she stated firmly. "Sir Leon, if you could please get Gaius here, thank you?"

Arthur cleared his throat, raising his gaze. _I am so lucky to have you, Guinevere._

At least Merlin wasn't sick yet, so that was good news. Or he hadn't been sick when the messenger had left Ealdor.

"Gaius will want to come", he murmured. "I'm sure we'll find volunteers to help and get food for the people inside the village, along with blankets and fresh water. We should ask for people to help." He then asked to have a quill, some ink and a piece of parchment.

The man seemed relieved, bowing his head again shortly. "Essetir is thankful for this kindness", he stated, truly looking like he meant what he said.

"What is your name?" Gwen asked, looking into the man's green eyes.

"Sir Luca, Your Majesty", he said, right as Arthur's parchment arrived. He grabbed the quill, dipped it in ink and started writing.

"I'll ask for assistance from lord Peregrin", he muttered. "Northpoint will probably have some resources to give."

"And Engerd", frowned Gwen. "It's a town quite close to Ealdor, is it not?"

"That is true, milady", answered Sir Luca. "The men in charge of guarding Ealdor are taking residence in there."

"We should do the same", the queen stated. "The people will help a neighbouring village."

Luca frowned. "I sure hope so, milady."

"I'm going", Arthur stated, getting to his feet.

"Sire-"

"Your Majesty, are you sure?"

"It is not wise, my lord-"

" _Silence_!" Arthur hissed at the nobles that had gathered to listen. They quieted down at the king's sudden flash of anger. "I will not let my court physician out there alone. Me and a few of my knights will leave for Ealdor at first light."

"So will I", Gwen suddenly said, getting up. "I know a lot about treating ill people, I will do my own part in helping them."

Arthur was about to protest, but the queen interrupted him. "Camelot is not defenceless without its king and queen", she stated. "We're not what makes this kingdom strong."

For a while the hall was quiet. Arthur knew she was right - Camelot wouldn't fall if they left for a few days. It was a time of peace.

And even though they hadn't said anything about it, both him and Gwen wanted to go because of Merlin.

Before Arthur had Gwen, he had Merlin. Before Gwen had Arthur, she had Merlin. And he truly was their friend, no matter the rank - hell, Arthur had given his own mother's seal to the servant (which probably made his father turn in his grave), and had openly admitted Merlin to be the bravest man he'd ever met. Merlin had bled for Arthur, been by his side through thick and thin, and gods knew that the servant was the one person he trusted more than anyone else.

This was Merlin.

"I will send for lord Peregrin", he stated shortly. "He shall be in charge of the citadel until our return. I will visit king Lot before riding to Ealdor, just to make perfect sense of the situation."

Sir Luca nodded respectively, looking slightly baffled. "I didn't expect you to personally take action", he stated - Arthur could see the confusion on the man's face. "But you have Essetir's sincerest thanks."

The king nodded. "We'll do our best to save Ealdor."

 _To save Merlin._

* * *

Gaius had been grim when hearing the news. Ealdor held a dear friend of his - Merlin's mother - and his own ward. Arthur's heart stung when he saw the physician's fear.

"So Moira is dead", he said quietly. "She was one of the best physicians I ever knew. I will have to make sure she didn't die for nothing."

Arthur nodded, swallowing. "Me and Gwen are both going. So are Gwaine, Lancelot, Leon and Percival", he stated. Gaius' head popped up.

"But sire-"

"Camelot will be fine. I'll leave lord Peregrin and Elyan in charge."

The old man quieted down.

"Elyan is the queen's brother. He was honoured by the responsibility, but also a little disappointed. I know he wanted to come with us."

Gaius smiled weakly. "Why do you come too, sire? To get better relations with Essetir?"

Arthur stopped his pacing, glancing up at the old physician. "You know why."

The king sat down, running his fingers through his golden hair. "I know what you meant, by the way", Arthur muttered, looking into the embers in Gaius' fireplace. "When you said that one day I'd know just how much my friends have done for me."

The old man didn't say anything, so he continued:

"Merlin is covered with scars. I assume you know about that."

Arthur looked up, seeing Gaius look older than he'd ever looked before. "Indeed he is."

"And most of them he's gotten when protecting me", he said - it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"That he has", Gaius confirmed. "He's far more loyal to you than you'll ever know."

Arthur swallowed, not being able to face the old man's eyes. "Seems so silly", he said quietly, picking at his fingers. "The thought of _Merlin_ protecting _me_."

Gaius let out a short and quiet laugh. "You should get used to it. He does it quite a lot."

The king looked up. "How much?"

"It is not my place to go into details, sire", he replied. "But you should know this."

The old man leaned closer, eyeing at Arthur from under his brows. "Merlin would walk barefoot through Hell for you. He's the most loyal friend you will ever have."

Arthur swallowed again, a sudden sadness overwhelming him. This was the same kind of sorrow that he'd felt for Gwen when she'd been enchanted by Morgana, the same kind of horror he'd gone through when he wasn't sure he'd ever see her smile again.

 _Will I ever see Merlin smile again?_

The king let out a long exhale, squeezing his eyes shut. Merlin was important - vital - to him. Merlin was his best friend. And because Arthur was a total dollopheaded clotpole he'd never actually told that to the man.

 _Why haven't I ever told him?_

They'd always turn it into a joke, or keep denying the fact they couldn't be proper friends and never could be. But if his relationship with Merlin didn't count as friendship, then what did? Arthur had grown up alongside his manservant, the cheeky little bugger had taught him so much. About life, about love, about everything. All the while he was keeping Arthur safe by going against enemies of Camelot, putting himself to danger for him, sacrificing himself and being his one constant companion. When everyone else failed, Arthur always had Merlin.

 _What did I ever do to deserve his loyalty?_

He felt the wetness in his eyes.

 _The most loyal friend you'll ever have._

"I know that", he said hoarsely, turning his eyes towards Gaius. There were unshed tears in the old man's eyes, too. "I can't lose him, Gaius."

"Me neither", the physician answered.

* * *

Merlin stared. A lump had formed in the warlock's throat, and he'd clenched his fists so tight together, that he felt his nails digging into the skin of his hands.

Trevor was convulsing on the floor, being held down by Hunith and Olinda. His fever had returned during the small hours of the night.

 _My spell was supposed to cure him - how is this possible? There is no way I did it wrong._

Merlin swallowed. There was only one option.

This illness was of magical origin. Someone very powerful. There was only one way they could have made the spell so powerful - it had to have some form of a vessel. Memories of the Rowan Staff flashed through his mind.

Something like that.

Trevor had stopped convulsing, and the old man was now lying on the floor, whimpering softly.

"Here", Merlin muttered, placing a cold cloth on his forehead and bringing the yesterday's elixir near him.

But his spell had worked - at least to some extent. Perhaps it was possible for him to slow down the sickness, to keep these people alive until they'd find the source of this sickness. Trevor had relaxed and fallen to restless sleep.

Hunith sat down on the floor, arching her head back and resting it against the wall. There were bags under her eyes, and at first, Merlin dismissed it as a sleepless night. But when her mother started shivering, despite the warmth of the fireplace, he squeezed his eyes shut.

 _Please, hurry up Gaius._

"Here", Merlin murmured, passing a mug of elixir to Hunith, who accepted it with trembling hands. He cupped his hands around the woman's, looking her in the eye.

"You have a fever, mother", he said quietly. "You should lie down."

Hunith blinked a few times, finally nodding. "Okay." Her voice was weak and hoarse, barely above a whisper. Merlin watched as a few friendly women brought her some blankets and started working on a comfortable bunk for her to lie on.

Gods, don't you dare take her from me, he thought while closing his eyes. Whoever was in charge of this evil magic, would have to feel his wrath. A flash of anger surged through him, making his magic wake up inside of him.

 _I will not let these people die. Not in a million years. You'll have to go through me first, whoever you are._

Merlin coughed.

* * *

 **Hehe** **:) Time for a cliffhanger. I was just casually going to make this a normal one-part chapter and then I realised** **there were like +6k words and I was like oh okay maybe I'll just. Do this.**

 **And here you have it. I hope you like it and it's** **not too messy or anything. As always, your reviews are amazing and I love them to pieces. Also, the much wanted** **magic reveal is closing in *gasp*. Bare with me for a few more chapters!**

 **I'll ask one more time - is there anything you want me to write before the magic reveal? Because, as I've said before, nothing will be the same after it.**

 **The quote at the beginning is from a song called Mars, by Sleeping At Last. They have a lot of fitting quotes. The spells that Merlin speaks during these chapters are actually not in the series - I make them up myself by using a site that translates English to the language of the Old Religion (or otherwise known as Old English)**

 ** _fireicewriter42_ : You're bloody welcome ;) I'm so glad at least someone got the feels from it xD I sure did while writing it...**

 ** _mersan123_ : Wow, y'all really liked the snow fight didn't you XD Anyway, I'm so glad you had a good time reading it. The reveal is a couple of chapters away.**

 ** _DynamicDuo911_ : Thank you :3 So good to hear that you liked my attempt in making something light-hearted. **Hopefully **this chapter is worth to read.**

 ** _AbuvTheClouds_ : Eheh, if there's one thing I like to do it's to make people laugh :3 So I'm glad. And glad to hear you liked Qaidontin! I guess the knights will find out about the scars at some point, but for **now **Arthur will keep it to himself. Aithusa will be featured a lot in the future, especially after the magic reveal.**

 **So, guys, I love your reviews and I appreaciete them so much.** **Thanks** **everyone, and see you in the next one!**


	7. There Will Be Butterflies

_Flutter by,_

 _butterfly_

 _Floating flower_

 _in the sky_

 _Kiss me with your_

 _petal wings -_

 _whisper secrets,_

 _Tell of spring._

* * *

"We can't do it now", a scar-faced man hissed to his friend. "The king of Camelot is riding to Essetir. Ealdor is in quarantine. We can't afford to screw this up by acting hastily!"  
"Silence", another hissed. "We're doing it. This changed nothing."  
" _Nothing_? Have you lost your mind?"  
"In fact, this is good. This way we'll get two kings at our disposal."  
The scarred man shook his head slowly, eyes flashing dangerously. "You're insane."  
His friend grinned. "I prefer creative."

* * *

Gwen hadn't gotten rid of the tightness inside her throat. It had been there ever since they'd left the castle, and it just wouldn't leave her alone. There was an icy layer of frost covering her heart, and the lump at the pit of her stomach seemed to eat her up from the inside.  
Merlin could be dying. In the worst case, he was dead already. Gwen took a deep breath, distracting her mind somewhere else.  
Arthur had parted their company and headed towards Essetir's capital, accompanied by three other nobles. Lilith - the young woman whose tragic story she'd heard from Arthur - was riding not too far behind her. The knights were quiet, and even Gwaine wasn't up for talking. Gwen needed something to keep herself from dwelling in her memories of Merlin dying from poison. She'd been sure that he'd died - and then the remedy had worked. Gwen remembered the wild joy she'd felt during that time (she remembered kissing Merlin on the lips and being terribly embarrassed for it) and shut her eyes for a moment.  
"Lilith", Gwen said, glancing over her shoulder to look at the small young woman riding at the back of the group. The queen knew that she was a vital informant when it came to putting an end to the slaver ring that was moving within the lands of Albion, and she was aware that this woman was also a friend to Merlin and Gwaine.  
Lilith glanced up, surprised. "Aye, melady?"  
"Come here", the queen smiled faintly, gesturing her to ride up. The knights made way for Lilith and her horse, and she gave Leon a meaningful look. The knight blinked, slowing down his pace and making sure to provide the two women their space.  
"How are you?" the queen asked, eyeing at the peculiar woman that had now reached her.  
"I'm alright melady", Lilith answered sheepishly. "Just worried for Merlin."  
"Me too", Gwen murmured back. She was silent for a while, swallowing. "He's a good friend."  
"I don't really know anythin' aboot friendship", Lilith replied, tone silent. "I haven't had any before."  
Gwen glanced at her sympathetically, remembering how Gwaine had been the exact same way back in the day. And looking at him nowadays, he was one of the people Arthur trusted the most. Of course, Arthur didn't trust anyone as much as he trusted Merlin.  
"It must have been terrible for you", Gwen said quietly. "Growing up in such horrors."  
Lilith took a moment to answer, but there was a pain in her bright-green eyes when she replied:  
"Horrors don't even begin to describe it, melady."  
Gwen swallowed, turning her eyes forward. "The knights seem to like you."  
Lilith scoffed. "I'm surprised. I'm a killer."  
"It was a justified kill", the queen answered. Something seemed to flash behind the woman's eyes, but Gwen didn't really know how to place it.  
"I suppose we also share a mutual hatred for magic", the smaller woman shrugged. Gwen flinched a little, looking away.  
"I'm a strange woman with a short 'air and a weird way of talkin'" she scoffed humourlessly. "I can't read or write. I'm a nobody. But somehow, 'ere I am, chattin' with the queen of Camelot and ridin' out to help me friend."  
Gwen gave her a small smile. "The people here appreciate things like bravery and loyalty more", she answered. "I wasn't always this way either, you know."  
Lilith's delicate eyebrows rose a little. "Really?"  
"No", the queen chuckled. "I'm a blacksmith's daughter. I used to work as a servant in the same castle that I now rule over."  
She glanced at the green-eyed woman, whose mouth had cracked open a little.  
"Well, how-"  
"I fell in love with a prince", Gwen interrupted her question: "And I was lucky enough to have this prince fall in love with me, too."  
Lilith was silent, and her thin lips arched into a faint smile. "Love", she stated quietly. "I've never understood how that works."  
Gwen frowned curiously. "What do you mean?"  
Lilith glanced at her quickly, swallowing. "I mean", she began, "I just don't think I'll ever fall in love."  
Gwen didn't really understand what Lilith was feeling - everybody fell in love, right? She remembered her first crush had been a knight's son, who used to play with her from time to time. But falling in love? With Arthur, it took its time… but when it did happen, she had never felt the same way before. Warm, bubbly feelings had filled her up every time she'd seen the man; her heart had started to beat quicker, and a flush had invaded her cheeks.  
"Someone's waiting for you out there", Gwen said slowly. "It might not be love at first sight, but one day you'll just _know_."  
"If you say so, melady."

* * *

Arthur wasn't in a gaming mood. He walked with good posture and dignity through the hallways of Lot's citadel. The architecture was similar to Camelot's castle, but the colours were different, and there was an unfamiliar atmosphere hanging in the air.  
A pair of guards was leading him to the throne room, and Arthur was followed by his knights Canton, Powell and (luckily) Percival. They were all tight-faced and moved with haste - this was no fun visit.  
Arthur pushed down the terrible feeling in his gut, hiding behind his kingly mask as they entered the hall. King Lot was sitting on his throne, crown resting on his black locks, pale green eyes sharp and narrow.  
"Arthur", he greeted, corners of his mouth arching to a small smile. "How good of you to come. I never expected you to."  
The king of Camelot nodded respectively. "Good to see you, Lot."  
"I'm sure you aren't, but I appreciate the effort", King Lot replied with a hue of amusement. Arthur swallowed down a scoff - he didn't like Lot very much, but he was a sensible person and would rule Essetir righteously enough.  
"You're here for Ealdor. I'm afraid there isn't much to see here."  
Arthur glanced down, inhaling and stepping slowly towards him. "I'm personally familiar with the people of Ealdor. Therefore I wish to do whatever I can to make them better."  
Lot smiled faintly. "Yes. It was very kind to borrow your physician. My own deceased, as you are aware."  
The king of Camelot nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss. My physician will do all in his might to find a cure for this illness."  
There was a grave expression on Lot's face when he spoke:  
"I cannot bring myself to believe that there is a cure for whatever this is."  
Arthur swallowed, forcing back his stressed thoughts. "We'll do our best. I hope our collaboration will be fruitful."  
Lot nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. They both knew full well the war-filled history between Camelot and Essetir, and as far as Arthur knew, they both wanted to start a fresher chapter. Albion was tired of fighting, and he sincerely hoped that they were living the dawn of a new era. Morgana's death had set the kingdoms free.  
"Me too", the king of Essetir stated shortly.

* * *

It was Merlin's third day in Ealdor, and half of the village was sick. The warlock rested his head against the stone wall in Eamon's house, closing his eyes. They flashed golden behind his eyelids as he murmured a quick spell under his breath. Immediately his senses started to clear, and the pounding in his head began to settle.  
Merlin had used a lot of magic to keep his mother well and to ease the pain of the sickest villagers. He was just taking a rest right now, and luckily some of the sturdier men in the village were still in good health and helped the sick ones in any way they could.  
The thing that bothered Merlin the most was not the fact he'd contracted a fatal illness - it was the fact that the people of Ealdor were _scared_. They were terrified, eyes darting around the rooms wildly, silent tears cried in the corners, breaking down in the middle of the street. The village had turned into a death trap, and the still healthy people couldn't be allowed out. Merlin understood that, and they understood that, but they were still scared to death.  
"Something's happening outside", blurted his mother, standing by the window. The warlock frowned, getting up on his shaky feet and wrapping his worn jacket tighter around his shoulders.  
"Who are they?" Hunith's tone was confused. Merlin's eyes widened as he saw the _battalion_ of people closing in on the village. The warlock's mouth cracked open as he recognised the people in the front.  
" _Gwen_?" he breathed. _What the hell is she doing here_? Right beside her was Gaius, and behind them, Merlin could see Gwaine, Leon, Lancelot and _Lilith_. Merlin could see they were leading a group of people who were travelling on foot, carrying bags and satchels along with them.  
The warlock flung the door open and started hurrying towards the village entrance. Gwen had dressed into a beautiful, light green cloak that was lined with wolf's fur. Her hair was tied back, and her eyes met Merlin's. They were full of emotions - compassion and sorrow, mostly.  
"Gwen", the warlock blurted out, acknowledging that those villagers who could still stand on their feet, had followed him.  
"Good to see you, Merlin", she whispered with a smile. The servant's eyes darted to the old physician.  
"Gaius", he greeted with a faint smile.  
"Hello, my boy", he answered, nodding softly towards Hunith who had appeared from Eamon's house.  
"Are you all here to help us?" asked Olinda, eyes widening in front of the mass of people. The people that were standing behind Gwen started nodding compassionately.  
"We brought food, water and warm blankets. And a physician", Gwen gestured towards the old man. Merlin blinked rapidly, swallowing down a fit of a cough.  
"Hang in there, mate", said Gwaine hoarsely. The warlock nodded, a slight furrow between his brow. His eyes connected with Gaius', and a thousand messages were exchanged between them without saying a word out loud.

* * *

Merlin coughed to his hand. He had developed a fever during the day and was doing his best to keep it at bay. The warlock tried to save his magic and use it to heal the ones that were doing the worst.  
"Merlin!" a distressed voice called out. A man opened the thick door to Eamon's house, scouring the area with his eyes.  
"I'm here", the warlock said hoarsely, sitting up from his spot next to the fireplace. The man was a farmer called Tiarnan. His gaze popped to Merlin, and he started rushing towards him. There was a small child wrapped up in his arms.  
As the farmer knelt next to him, Merlin frowned. The little girl in his arms was pale but covered with a thin layer of sweat indicating a high temperature. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but a few times the warlock could catch a glimpse of her feverish gaze. He placed his hand on her forehead, flinching at the heat that was radiating from her.  
"How long has she been like this?" the servant rasped.  
"For a few hours now", Tiarnan whispered. His eager eyes met Merlin's.  
"Please - will you help her? Will you use…" the man's words seemed to die into his throat. " _Magic_?"  
The warlock blinked rapidly and swallowed. _He knows? Well, I suppose people might have seen me heal the others. I tried to keep it low-key, but oh well._  
Merlin didn't say anything but gave the man a nod. With that, the warlock raised his arms in front of him, placing his fingers on the girl's head.  
" **Ágíeme** ", he breathed, eyes quickly flashing to bright gold, and exhaling as a warm breeze swept through his body until it reached his fingertips. Merlin's blinked, pulling his hands away as the girl's eyes flickered open again. She swallowed, looking around in confusion.  
"Father?"  
Tiarnan's eyes had widened, and there was something wet in the corner of his eye. "I'm here, Rowie. I'm here my girl."  
Merlin smiled faintly. _Is her name Rowena? How convenient is that_?  
Tiarnan slowly raised his head, facing the warlock. There was painful respect in his eyes, as he spoke a soft and heartfelt 'thank you'. Merlin nodded silently as a reply, before pulling back on his spot in front of the fireplace.  
"I can't cure it", he said as the two were about to leave. "That most likely means that the sickness is caused by powerful magic."  
 _So powerful, that even my magic cannot penetrate it. That amount of power would require some kind of a vessel, no doubt. It can't be too far away from the village, but most likely won't be here. I would feel it._  
Merlin's face twisted when a violent fit of a cough suddenly shook his body, and for a moment he thought his lungs would get ripped out. When it finally died down, he was gasping for air, and there was water in his eyes that he quickly blinked away.  
The warlock reached for a cup of water. The sickness was getting stronger. His magic wouldn't be enough to save them, not like this.  
 _I need to see Arthur_.

* * *

Lord Peregrin Ashthorne was deeply honoured by the trust that the king of Camelot had placed on him. He'd been put in charge of the citadel alongside with one the king's most trusted knights, Sir Elyan.  
Even though Peregrin no longer had commander Micah, his temporary bodyguard, beside him, he was doing rather great. Sometimes the boy missed Micah's wisdom, but he also understood why he'd left. Micah had a family, and he loved them. Peregrin had briefly met his wife and four children and had truly realised that there was nothing quite crucial to the war veteran than family.  
Peregrin wished he could have had the same. His mother had died in a fire when he was but three years of age, and his father had been a monstrous slave trader. Family had never exactly been there for him.  
He sighed, leaning back on the throne of Camelot. The day was about to end, and both he and Sir Elyan were tired.  
"Milords", a guard suddenly opened the door to the throne room. "There's a visitor for you here. I believe it's urgent."  
Elyan quickly glanced at the young boy beside him, who tensed up. Both of the collected their pride and readied their posture.  
"Send them in", the knight called with a nod.  
"As you wish, milords", he answered, hesitating for a moment. "Before you meet her, you should know she's mute."  
Peregrin raised his eyebrows, glancing at Elyan. "Alright", the knight stated with a nod.  
The guards opened the big, oaken doors. Peregrin frowned his delicate brows as in stomped a girl. She was about eighteen years of age, her hair was the colour of deep red, and there were pearls and feathers attached to her locks. Her eyes were fierce and bright green, skin pale and he noticed some strange, small symbols that had been painted on her cheeks, forehead and arms with white paint. Her clothes were ragged, dirty and worn, but they looked warm enough, and the girl seemed very comfortable in them. She was out of breath, but walked with a rare sense of pride and confidence, and was carrying a pile of small pieces of parchment.  
She stopped in front of them, eyeing at them suspiciously. She leaned down to scribble something on one of the papers, then got up and reached out to give it to Elyan.  
Peregrin leaned over to look. The writing was beautiful and leaned to the right. The letters were bound together, written with a narrow style and black ink. It said, " _You're not the king and queen._ "  
"King Arthur and Queen Guinevere are currently preoccupied", Elyan replied, narrowing his eyes. "I am sir Elyan, and this is lord Peregrin", he gestured towards the young boy. The visitor's eyes brushed over the lord with slight confusion.  
She doesn't believe I'm capable because of my age, Peregrin thought, blinking. How typical.  
She seemed to accept the answer and grabbed the parchments she'd been carrying, looking for the correct one. Peregrin was slightly annoyed by the fact that the girl gave the piece of paper to Elyan and not him.  
" _I know something important about the business in Ealdor._ " the writing said. " _But if I intend to tell share my knowledge, I need you to promise that no harm will come to me_."  
Elyan leaned forwards. The girl had managed to get them interested. "If your information truly is as important as you say, then you have our word", he said, glancing at the young lord, who nodded slightly.  
The girl swallowed, giving them the next parchment. " _My name is Keeva, and I'm a druid. my tribe lives on the other side of Albion_ ", the writing said, and when Peregrin looked up, she saw the girl revealing the triskelion on her wrist.  
"You've come a long way", Elyan stated. Peregrin stayed quiet, studying the girl's movements, expressions and writing. She was afraid of something, but also very brave and bold. That was obvious, from the way she had merely marched into Camelot, where magic was illegal, and everything magical was hunted down mercilessly.  
" _My tribe told me not to come_ ", the next parchment said. " _They said that it was too dangerous, but my loyalty for Emrys is more important._ "  
Blood ran out of Peregrin's face. He had heard of Emrys, the old and mighty sorcerer who had brought down Morgana Pendragon in the battle of Camlann. They say he could command dragons, and that he was the most loyal ally of the Once and Future King.  
"What about him?" asked Elyan tightly.  
Keeva raised her chin, passing the next piece of parchment. It said: " _Emrys is in danger._ " Elyan and Peregrin exchanged glances. " _What do you mean?_ "  
Fear returned to the druid's eyes, and the air seemed to fill with anxiousness. She gave the next piece, and it said: " _There is a man_." Peregrin frowned, and for some reason the words made him shiver.  
The two waited for her to give them the next one, but she stayed still for so long that Elyan had to clear his throat. Keeva flinched, frowned, and gave passed Elyan her following note.  
" _I believe you are familiar with a druid by the name Mordred_ ", the message said. Elyan's eyes widened, and he leaned forward, every muscle in his body tensed.  
" _What about him_?" the knight's voice was sharp.  
The druid girl had three notes left, and she gave Elyan the first one, raising her deep, bright green eyes. " _There is someone who wasn't too happy about his downfall._ "  
The next note was short. It said the name ' _Melehan_ ' and under it were the words: ' _Mordred's brother_ '.

* * *

Arthur lied awake in the unfamiliar bed, under unfamiliar covers, in an unfamiliar room. It was luxurious in every way, but they were so different from his bedchamber at Camelot. He closed his eyes, imagining waking up to Merlin's insufferably cheery voice saying " _Rise and shine_ ", and him pulling the covers away from him.  
For some reason, the thought didn't cheer him up. Thinking about Merlin didn't cheer him up. It cast a shadow over his thoughts. The stupid, loyal servant was bloody _dying_ , trapped inside his home village. The mental image of Merlin's scarred skin flashed through his mind. He had suffered _so much_ for Arthur, and this is how it'd end?  
It was so wrong. There was no enemy Arthur could fight against. This wasn't a foe that could be cut down by a sword.  
Arthur suddenly frowned, putting his thoughts on hold. He heard the familiar sound of swords connecting to each other, the clanking of the metal. He pulled his boots on, grabbing Excalibur from its hilt and bursting out the door.  
The hallway was filled with people who'd been woken up by the commotion, and they looked just as confused as Arthur. King Lot appeared from his chambers, looking weary and messy, but his eyes had a metal-sharp hue in them.  
"What is the meaning of this?" the king of Essetir demanded. Guards began to surround him, raising their swords to protect the king. Arthur gripped his sword tighter and heard footsteps rolling up the stairs to the floor they were in.  
A tall man in noble clothes appeared from the shadows, his face accompanied with a broad smile that didn't reach his eyes.  
"Lot, my friend", the man spoke. Essetir's ruler seemed to freeze, staring at him in disbelief.  
"Alasdair", he choked out. "What is the meaning of this?"  
The tall man sighed, starting to pace calmly around the corridor. "Well, you see, dear Lot", he began, "This is a rebellion."  
Arthur swallowed, tightening his grip around the hilt of Excalibur. Lot's face had become ashen, and it was full of disbelief.  
"You can't be serious", he said, aghast.  
"Oh, I'm very serious", Alasdair stated with a grin. "You reign, short as it may have been, has come to an end. The new ruler is your cousin."  
"Sorcia?" Lot choked out. A fair, thin and pale a woman appeared from behind Alasdair's tall form. Her face was sweet, and her hair was a beautiful pale golden colour. She had freckles and long lashes, but her eyes were what deceived the sweet act. They were like frozen ponds, cold and calculating.  
"Lot", she greeted. Her voice was small and sounded light, reminding Arthur of wind chimes. "You'll get to spend the rest of your days imprisoned under the citadel. Maybe you'll become useful once again someday."  
"Sorcia!" Lot exclaimed, brows arching in anger. "What do you think you're doing?"  
"I'm taking over the throne", she replied with a cool tone. "And now we have the king of Camelot in our midst as well." Her grey eyes turned towards Arthur.

* * *

" **Gelácnian** ", Merlin whispered, closing his eyes and biting his lip with effort, as his magic reached out to heal the old woman in front of him. She sighed in relief as the pain eased, muttering the word 'thank you' all over again.  
The warlock leaned back, shivering with cold. His fever was rising again, and he was exhausted from not getting more than three hours of sleep in the past few days and overworking himself.  
Merlin needed to see Arthur. There was a sorcerer somewhere nearby, and he was using some filthy form of dark magic to cause this to Ealdor.  
But Arthur was in Essetir, and Merlin couldn't leave the people of Ealdor. If someone died here when he was gone, he didn't know if he could live with himself.  
But what would happen, if the warlock stayed here? He would die slowly of exhaustion and illness, along with the rest of his home village. The young man sighed, leaned his chin on his knees.  
"Merlin", a voice whispered. He jumped - the unexpected sound had come from right next to his ear. A shiver went down his spine as he realised that the voice was very familiar.  
"Merlin", someone whispered again, louder. The warlock gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as a sudden fit of ache surged through him, settling as a dull pain inside his head.  
"I'm right here, Merlin", the voice continued, and in front of Merlin's eyes, there was an eerily real-looking form of _her._  
"You're not real", Merlin muttered. Morgana tilted her head with a pout. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not", she stated. Her hair was the same black mess as it'd been the last years of her life, and her dress looked like it was made of black rags. Merlin flinched as she got closer, sitting next to him.  
"You're going to die here unless you do something, you know", Morgana continued, her green eyes drilling into Merlin.  
 _Why does she look so real?_  
"Go away", the warlock muttered back.  
"I can't", the witch replied. "I'm in your head."  
Merlin glared at her, and she pouted, eyeing at him from under her brows.  
"You have to go to Arthur", Morgana said. Merlin couldn't take his eyes off of her face - she was _there_ … but she wasn't.  
"This village is doomed unless you find the sorcerer who's doing this", she said. "And right now you're too weak to face him alone. You need your friends."  
"I can't leave the village", Merlin murmured. "I might end up spreading the disease. We're stuck here for a reason."  
"Oh, Merlin", Morgana purred. He felt her breath on his cheek. "You're _Emrys_. Remember that."  
Merlin stared ahead and felt the witch looking at him.  
 _Gaius_.  
"Of course", he breathed. "I have to get to Gaius."  
Morgana smirked and reached her hand towards Merlin. He grabbed it without thought, and within a few seconds, he was up on his feet, as if someone really had just pulled him up.  
"Now get out there", the witch whispered in his ear. Merlin sniffed and inhaled deeply, even though it scraped his lungs.  
"Okay", he said slowly. "I can do this."

* * *

Gwen rode to Ealdor with the rest of the volunteers at first light. They started bringing up the field tents and gathering up the supplies to be taken to Ealdor. Gwen was proud of these people. They were working together, united, in order to achieve something good.  
"Gwen!" Gaius' voice called out to her. He hasted towards her, concern in his deep blue eyes. "A letter came from Camelot last night with a courier."  
Her heart jumped. "From Elyan and Peregrin?"  
"Yes", Gaius said. He looked worried.  
"Has something happened?" Gwen whispered, trying not to imagine Camelot under attack by a crazed mage or another griffin trying to bring havoc to its people.  
"A druid girl came to Camelot last night, bearing news about Ealdor's situation here", Gaius swallowed. Gwen's heart started racing, and she raised her brows. "What?"  
"She seems certain that the illness is caused by magic", the physician stated quietly. "And that the sorcerer is sir Mordred's older brother, Melehan."  
Gwen swallowed, sitting down on a closeby chair. "Mordred had a brother?"  
"I didn't know either", Gaius said softly. "Apparently he lived on the other side of Albion. But Melehan is very angry at the people who killed Mordred. The druid girl believes that he wants revenge on Arthur - and Emrys."  
"Emrys?" Gwen raised her head.  
"He did play a big part in defeating Mordred and Morgana", the old man stated.  
"But why Ealdor?" Gwen questioned anxiously. "I can't begin to understand how cursing a village of innocent people would solve anything."  
"I believe", Gaius began slowly. "That he plans to lure Arthur into seeking help from Emrys."  
"So he can make his move to kill them", Gwen realised. She blinked, lifting her chin. "What do we do, Gaius?"  
"We can try to find him", the man replied. "Melehan is said to extremely dangerous, so we should proceed with caution."

* * *

Merlin's body felt strange and lightheaded. He had taken five different potions that he had brewed with Gaius during the night. They had used both magic and science to make enough for him to make it to Arthur - reducing the effects of the illness, adding energy, numbing the pain, concealing the disease inside of him, making him unable to pass the sickness on.  
And most importantly, he had to be able to turn from old to young again. The official story back in Ealdor was that he had gotten too sick to go outside anymore.  
Merlin knew that he was still dying - as was the rest of Ealdor.  
 _You just keep them alive until I come back, Gaius_ , he thought.  
Arthur was supposed to have returned to Ealdor days ago. There was a possibility something had happened to him, and the thought was eating him away.  
Eventually, his horse had to slow down from exhaustion. Merlin conjured up a ball of light to show his way. The warlock changed his appearance into an older version after he had a clear visual on Essetir's capital city. The towers reached higher than Camelot's, but they were also more narrow. The gate was closed, for whatever reason, and there were several guards on the way.  
 _What the hell?_ He frowned. _Has the sorcerer taken over Essetir's capital, too? Is this the same fate as Ealdor's?_  
Merlin couldn't be sure. He frowned, wrapping his red cloak tighter around his shoulders. He left the horse into the woods and started approaching the city,  
He was moving stiffly and slowly, panting as he leaned against his walking stick.  
 _Being old sucks._  
He slowly approached the gate, stepping out from the shadows. The guards immediately raised their swords.  
"Who are you, old man?" they growled. "The city is closed. Back off!"  
"Err", Merlin began but cleared his throat. "Why is the city closed?"  
"None of your business", the other replied. "Move along."  
"Um, I live here", Merlin attempted. "My house is just around the corner. I need to get back to my house."  
"Do you now?" one of them growled. Two of the guards glanced at each other, then at Merlin, who was heavily leaning against his stick with a hunched back and a sweaty brow.  
"Fine", a tall guard finally grunted. "I'll take you to your house."  
"Thank you", Merlin gave him a grateful nod, and the gate was opened just enough for him and the guard to slip inside.  
Essetir's capital was loud despite the hour. People were yelling at each other in raised voices, marching the streets. "What's going on?" he frowned.  
"King Lot is a traitor to Essetir, and will be forced to give up the crown", replied the guard lightly. "Is this your house?"  
"Yes", Merlin breathed in shock, as he pressed his fingers against the guard's forehead, putting him to sleep. The warlock turned around to walk towards the citadel before the man even hit the ground.

* * *

"What's your sister doing?" Arthur growled at the black-haired man, who was slumped over in the nearest chair.  
"What does it bloody look like?" Lot murmured. "She's taking the crown. She's mental, delusional."  
"What do you mean?" the king of Camelot crossed his arms. It was getting cold in the cell they'd been put in, and he was impatient.  
"I mean", Lot muttered with a gravelly voice, "that she is here to take the crown." He leant back. "Sorcia has always been a lunatic. She hates magic more than your father did", he let out a short laugh. "She wants a second purge."  
Arthur exhaled, covering his mouth with his hand. "Shit."  
"What does she think is going to happen, here? She's just going to step to the throne and expect the people to accept her as queen?"  
Lot's eyes had a dull look. "She'll most likely blackmail the inner council by threatening to hurt their families unless they agree to speak against me."  
The man raised his head. "I haven't been a king long enough to prove myself."  
Arthur frowned, finally sitting down on the cold floor.  
"They did one mistake, though", Arthur said quietly. "They stole your crown when Camelot was here. They laid their hands on me. She might be safe from Essetir's rage, but she sure won't be safe from Camelot's."  
His words were followed by shouting and the obnoxiously loud clanking that was formed when swords fell to the floor.  
The guards in front of Arthur and Lot's cell hurried upstairs, swords ready, It didn't take long until they started falling down one by one.  
Lot and Arthur stared, as a very slow old man walked down the steps, panting loudly and muttering something vulgar under his breath.  
"Why, your majesty!" Emrys greeted with a toothy grin. Arthur grimaced at him as a reply. "What a coincidence. How are you doing this fine evening?"  
"Spectacular", murmured Arthur.  
The sorcerer then proceeded to tilt his head, mutter "Onlúcan", at the door and as his eyes flashed a light golden colour, the lock snapped in half.  
"Woah", breathed Lot, looking at Emrys with new-found awe.  
The white-bearded man frowned at him. "Who are you?"  
Lot stared at him for a while, mouth hanging open. "I'm the _king_!"  
"Of what?"  
" _Of Essetir_!"  
Emrys squinted at the tall man. "Ah, yes, there was treason, if I'm correct?"  
"Yes, and who are you? You do realise that the people currently holding my crown want to set motion the second Purge", Lot said hoarsely.  
Emrys seemed to freeze for a moment, emotion flashing in his grave, stormy blue eyes.  
Arthur always thought the old man's eyes looked familiar. Why couldn't he quite place them?  
"I see", the sorcerer muttered, sadness creeping into his voice. "Well, I cannot let that happen."  
"Who is he?" asked Lot again, glancing at Arthur.  
The king of Camelot glared at the sorcerer for a while - the old man nodded, letting him know it was alright to reveal his identity.  
"His name is Emrys", Arthur stated shortly. The king hadn't forgotten the fact that this sorcerer was the reason Camelot still had its king after the battle of Camlann, but he also hadn't forgotten that this man had killed his father.  
"Wait", Lot said slowly. " _The_ Emrys? I've heard the name in some druidic prophecies."  
"Yes", Arthur grunted.  
The king of Essetir scoffed with a smile. "I'll be damned. It's bold - walking around in a kingdom where sorcery is punishable by death."  
"I haven't sentenced sorcerers to death anymore", Arthur muttered. "Not after Camlann."  
Emrys tilted his head. "Not to be rude, but can we go now?"  
Arthur and Lot nodded at the same time, stepping forward towards the fallen guards and picking up their weapons.  
"Let's get your crown back", the old man murmured. "And after that, we have to go and find ourselves a sorcerer."  
"A sorcerer?" Arthur repeated. "What do you mean?"  
"I mean", Emrys wheezed while climbing the stairs, "that if you wish to save the people of Ealdor, we need to find the sorcerer that's making its people sick."  
Lot watched the red-robed man in disbelief. "You can't be serious."  
"Yes I can", Emrys replied, making a mean face. "Look."  
"You think the sickness is caused by something magical?" Arthur asked sharply. His concern over the people at the village was obvious.  
"I went there today", Emrys said lightly, as they hid behind a corner. "There is strong magic at work there. It needs some sort of vessel to be maintained."  
"A vessel? Like a staff or something?" Lot asked with a frown.  
They pressed against the wall as a pair of guards walked right past them.  
"Exactly like a staff", Emrys whispered. "Come on."

* * *

Arthur noted that the old sorcerer seemed to look paler than could possibly be healthy, and his breath wheezed loudly.  
"You alright?" he asked coldly. Emrys glanced at him, before fishing something out of his bag. It was a small glass bottle filled with green liquid. Within seconds the sorcerer had downed it in one go.  
"Let's see how your health is doing when you come to be my age", Emrys growled, pressing forward again.  
"Arthur", Lot said quietly. "Why don't you like him?"  
"He's a sorcerer", Arthur replied immediately, keeping his face stony. "Just because I no longer kill them, I don't like them either, and I wouldn't want them in my kingdom. Magic is evil."  
Emrys didn't seem like he had heard them at first, but then the old man suddenly spoke up:  
"He's just cross with me because he thinks I murdered his father?"  
"Uther?"  
"What do you mean I _think_?" Arthur hissed. "You _did_!"  
Emrys said nothing, pressing his index finger against his lips. "Shush."  
Distant voices were coming from behind the nearest door.  
"That's the throne room", said Lot grimly, tightening his grip on the sword. There was venom in his voice. "My sister should be in there."  
Emrys nodded quickly. "Ready?"  
"Open the door."  
The sorcerer took a step back, side towards the door, and raised his wrinkled hand. Flashing his golden eyes, the door was ripped from its hinges and slammed on the floor.  
The delicate golden-haired woman sat on the throne, fists clenched.  
"Hello, brother", Sorcia spat.  
"I'm getting some flashbacks from this", Arthur murmured under his breath, and Emrys let out a hoarse chuckle.  
"That throne does not belong to you, and you know it", Lot growled. "Stand down."  
Fifteen men had placed themselves between the three and Lot's sister. Their swords were up, and their mouths all formed a mean grimace - they looked like a pack of wolves, revealing their teeth to the threat.  
Arthur gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, setting his fighting stance.  
"You and Alasdair will pay for this", Lot growled.  
Emrys had remained quiet until then, but as five of the men surged forward towards Lot and Arthur, he raised his hand ahead.  
Arthur _felt_ it - he honestly felt the power that was radiating from the old sorcerer as the men were knocked back with force. They connected hard with the stone floor, and their swords clanked against it as they feel from their grips.  
"You brought a _sorcerer_?" Sorcia spat, her eyes wild. "You'd side with something so evil, so impure-"  
"Oh, shut up", grunted Emrys, flicking his wrist. The woman's voice died down as if she'd suddenly lost it. She pressed her hands against his throat, confused - the growing panic was visible in her eyes.  
"Stop it, you bastard!" someone yelled viciously - and it was coming a lot closer than Arthur had expected.  
Alasdair surged towards Emrys, the tip of his sword inches away from the old man's chest. Arthur yelled, pushing the sorcerer aside, which caused the blade to miss his vitals and instead it embedded into the old man's shoulder.  
Emrys hissed in pain, his eyes flashing angry golden once again. Alasdair flew back several feet, hitting the wall and crumbling to the ground. He didn't get up.  
The king of Camelot felt sudden dread for Emrys, kneeling down next to him. The sorcerer pulled the sword out, letting out a shaky breath.  
"Guys", Lot hissed under his breath. "Get up."  
The rest of Sorcia's guards were currently sprinting towards them, swords raised. Emrys, who was still hunched on the ground, raised his hand tiredly.  
Arthur saw up close as the blue eyes changed colour, and a second later all the swords were stolen from the men's grips. They were hanging in the air.  
Everyone in the room stared at the sight, mouths hanging open. Emrys flicked his wrist again, and the swords now flew higher until they hit the wooden roof above them.  
Arthur grabbed the sorcerer's arm, murmuring a 'come on' and beginning to pry the old man up. Emrys was shaky, and blood was smudging his already crimson robe. There was something frightening in his eyes - a determination that sent shivers down his spine.  
"What do you want to do with them?" he asked, and Arthur was alarmed by how much weaker the man's voice sounded.  
"I want them restrained", Lot growled. "And imprisoned."  
"As you wish", the sorcerer stated, and then raised his shaky hand again.  
"Emrys, you're hurt-"  
" **Wrásen niðersige**!" Emrys' voice thundered, and in a synchronised action the men were forced to kneel, their hands suddenly glued behind their backs. Fear glimmered in their eyes, and they didn't dare to even look towards the mighty sorcerer.  
Emrys was leaning against Arthur even harder, and being so close, the king could hear the old man's laboured breaths.  
"Sorcia", Lot's voice was softer now. "Your crimes won't go unpunished this time. You're my sister, and I love you, but you're also a big sack of shit, and you deserve to be locked up."  
Lot turned to look at the still paling sorcerer. "You can let her talk."  
Emrys said nothing, did no gesture - his eyes merely changed colour for a second and Sorcia let out a shaky breath.  
Her icy blue eyes drilled themselves into the sorcerer. "Evil, unholy creature", she hissed. "Just wait. Your kind will be snuffed out from the Five Kingdoms once again. You infect this land with your poison!"  
Emrys said nothing, but there was sadness behind his once again blue eyes.  
"Shut up, Sorcia", Lot growled. "I don't like magic either, but you're a straight up fanatic." He then turned to look at the king of Camelot. "I'll take it from here. My personal guards are locked up in the second prison wing - I'll head there and free them. You should get that patched up. The physician's quarters are one floor down. Moira may be dead, but her apprentice is still there."  
Arthur nodded since Emrys seemed too drained to talk.  
"Oh, and", Lot flashed them a smile. "Thank you. Both of you."

* * *

Merlin's shoulder hurt - it pounded painfully with every step, and his breathing was getting harder and harder every second. He still had a few phials of Gaius' mixture left - they'd give him a few more hours before the symptoms would overrun him.  
"Here", Arthur muttered. His eyes were hard, like two pieces of sapphire, as he knocked on the physician's door. A young, pale-skinned boy opened the door.  
"Who are you?"  
"The king of Camelot", Arthur replied. "And he needs help. He was stabbed in the shoulder."  
The boy raised his brows but nodded respectfully as he saw the king's crest.  
"I need sage, clover, feverfew and basil", the pld warlock wheezed. "Can you do that for me?"  
The boy raised his brows. "But… the wound needs to be bandaged; you need bed rest-"  
"There's no time for that", he stated impatiently. "Can you just get the herbs?"  
The boy glanced at Arthur suspiciously before finally nodding and turning around.  
"What are you doing?" the king asked quietly, as Merlin sat down on the nearest chair.  
"First aid", he replied. "I'll have plenty of time to worry about it later."  
Arthur looked anxious, so he continued:  
"Right now we have more urgent matters to tend to, don't you think?"  
He leaned closer to the king, looking him in the eye. "You want to save your servant, right?"  
Arthur flinched, looking away. Merlin couldn't help but feel good about the concern the king was holding when his friend's life was on the line.  
"Yeah", he said quietly.  
"Here", the physician's apprentice said suddenly. "I'm Cain, by the way."  
"Nice to meet you, Cain", Merlin murmured as he began crushing the herbs in a wooden grinder. He then leaned over the smelly, dark green mass of crushed leaves and started whispering.  
" **Gehælan mín awyrdnys, bebræden þás blóddolg, befeolan cbeft, aliesan** **éower** **bearn bedrincan**."  
The aged warlock's eyes flickered in a soft, golden hue for a second. He then let out a breath, as smoke rose from the cup he's ground the herbs in.  
It was now in the form of warm liquid.  
He breathed in the healing fumes, slowly downing the cupful of medicine. It tasted foul, but he refrained from grimacing.  
Merlin breathed out, Cain was staring at him, eyes wider than plates.  
"You-" he choked. "You used magic!"  
"A sharp one, I see", Merlin stated dryly. "Yes. I have no time for the science way right now."  
He pulled his robe to the side just enough for them to see as the wound was closing in on itself.  
"Woah", Arthur breathed in amazement.  
"Now then, your majesty", Merlin choked with his raspy voice. "We need to get going. Ealdor doesn't have much time."  
The king nodded, muttering thanks to Cain. He then followed Merlin, who was already by the door, leaning on his walking stick once again.  
"Are you sure you're alright?" Arthur asked suspiciously.  
"Of course I'm not", the warlock replied sharply. "I just got stabbed."  
The king rolled his eyes once again.  
"We need to keep moving."

* * *

 **Phew, that was a long one! But I'm glad I finally finished this chapter. Had a random and sudden inspiration for this fic, so I'm giving this out there... not sure if I should remove the hiatus status yet or not :^) Let me know what you think about this chapter. It's sort of fill-y, since the next chapter wraps up this entire Ealdor-fiasco.  
**

 **Sorry for unexpected hiatus, by the way. I might make a comeback, I might not. Anyway... the next chapter, whenever it's gonna come out, is going to be the chapter where Arthur finally finds out about Merlin's magic.**

 ** _mersan123_ \- We never really got to see king Lot in action in the series, and for my fic I'd like Camelot to have some allies. They're gonna need 'em... and I don't really understand your statement about the paragraphs, I think they're fine? In any case, I'm glad you enjoyed =)**

 ** _Its Physics Magic_ \- Aw glad you think so :) And making Lilith a Mary Sue in the beginning is actually my plan - you may see a glimpse of her true colours in this chapter. And yeah the _everyone survives_ theme was just kind of necessary for this story. But hey I'm glad to hear you're liking it!**

 ** _DynamicDuo 911_ \- I bet if the Camelot accepted magic again, people would start using magic in swordfights, too. Could be an interesting prospect... And yeah, this chapter doesn't really shine any light on the origin of the illness (yet) but the next chapter will wrap this up.**

 ** _fireicewriter42_ \- Haha, sorry for the wait :) Hopefully you'll enjoy this one.**

 ** _SherlockHolmes4884_ \- The Great Dragon is alive. Aithusa will have something to do with this story, but not what you think. Mithian and Elena are alive and well as far as I know... and the magic reveal for my story was planned out already when I began writing the first chapter. **


	8. Lose Your Faith In Me

_This is your story_

 _These are your scars_

 _Don't you ever forget_

 _Who you are_

* * *

Merlin and Arthur arrived at the village. The warlock moved uncomfortably, and his breathing hitched.

"I'm going to visit the village first", he choked. "There could be people in need of immediate help. You take your best knights and go find where that sorcerer is hiding."

Arthur's expression changed. "You can't, you'll get infected-"  
"Oh, please", Emrys sighed. "For once in your life, just do what I tell you to do and go."

It immediately occurred to him that it was strange of him to talk to Arthur like that - the king didn't know the bearded man in front of him was his manservant. As far as he knew, he was an old, legendary warlock shrouded in mystery, known only by the name _Emrys_.

"Fine", Arthur growled, throwing a glance at the warlock. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and the old man saw as his jaw clenched. "Check up on my manservant, please."

Merlin was shocked by the emotion in his eyes. He nodded slowly.

After that, the king took off.

As the king disappeared from sight, the warlock let out a long cough. The effects of Gaius' potions were disappearing rapidly. He needed to be in bed. Merlin let out a shuddering breath before letting himself into the village (the guards saw nothing more but a strange-shaped shadow that was gone as quickly as it had appeared).

Merlin drank the anti-aging potion as he stepped into Eamon's hall.

The house _reeked_ of sickness. His parchment-like skin melted away and was replaced by the pale, smooth skin he actually had. The beard withdrew back into his chin, disappearing altogether, and his hair changed to the familiar raven-black.

"Merlin", his mother's silent, weak voice called out. "You're back."

The warlock walked towards her, his legs shaking weakly. "Hello, mother. How are you?"

His mother's eyes were sunken and she looked like she should be bedridden, but there she was, on her feet, the glimmer of her eyes as warm as ever as she wrapped her arms around her son's thin form.

"I'm better than most people here. Can you help them? Please?"

Merlin pulled back, looking over his shoulder with a frown. An old lady had leaned over a small girl, who couldn't be more than four years old. The girl's brow was covered in a layer of sweat and her form was dangerously still. Merlin walked over, kneeling next to her and placing a hand over her forehead, closing his eyes.

Merlin flinched. The girl's breathing hitched. Her heart was beating far too low.

"We're losing her."

"Do something", the old lady cried, her green eyes wet with tears. "Please, I'm begging you, she's all I've got…"

Merlin nodded hastily, ignored the pounding in his own head as he focused. He squeezed his eyes shut, his heart slowly getting synchronized with the girl's.

He let out a breath. The outside world disappeared.

" **Níed híe heortscræf æt beatan** ", his voice came from deep down his throat, barely audible, but a powerful burning forced his eyes open, a flooding with bright gold.

Gradually over the next few seconds, the girl's heart beat rose. She took out a deep breath, coughing violently, but sitting up and opening her eyes in the process.

"Oh-" the old woman cried out, wrapping her thin arms over the girl. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Merlin focused on breathing, giving her a nod. The sight of the two of them was reward enough for him.

But Merlin could now feel the weakness that had been kept away by Gaius' potions.

He felt it in his bones.

He felt it in his lungs, his heart, his head.

 _Arthur… please hurry._

Merlin now knew that he wouldn't be able to turn back into his old-man -disguise any longer. Not when he was this weak. The transformation could kill him.

Arthur would have to face the sorcerer without him.

* * *

"Sire, you're back", Percival approached his king immediately upon his return. "Where have you been?"

"Essetir's throne was briefly taken over by king Lot's sister", Arthur stated. "She locked us up. We escaped with the help of Emrys."  
Colour ran out of Percival's face. Arthur was well aware that the knight respected the druids and was well informed on their tales and legends.

"Are you alright? Was she defeated?"

"Yes and yes", Arthur replied. "But we must hurry, there is no time to lose. A sorcerer is hiding somewhere nearby and we need to find him before it's too late."  
"Yeah, about that…" Percival began slowly. "He's not just any sorcerer."

Arthur raised his brows. "You know who he is?"

"We got a messenger from Lord Peregrin and Elyan", Percival said quietly. "A druid from the other side of the Five Kingdoms had travelled all the way here to warn us."

The knight looked over his shoulder, and Arthur saw a young, maybe fifteen years old, druid girl standing next to the king's wife. Gwen and the druid were looking in their direction.

"She says that the sorcerer is a druid as well, a powerful one, and blinded by his rage and grief. He was Mordred's older brother."

Arthur's heart skipped a beat, and his throat suddenly became dry. "Mordred had a brother?"

"Yes, but they were separated a long time ago", Percival explained. "Melehan wants revenge on the people who killed his brother - you, and Emrys."

"Emrys is here", Arthur murmured. "In the village. He went to see if he could help someone. I told him that even he couldn't fight off a disease like this and he'd get infected, but he pretty much blew me off and went in."

"Don't underestimate him, sire", Percival said. "His power is unimaginable."

Arthur didn't say anything, just glanced silently over his shoulder. He had very mixed feelings about the sorcerer. And indeed, magic was still illegal in both Essetir and Camelot and it was his duty to make sure there were no sorcerers anywhere near his kingdom.

Arthur hadn't forgotten the aid Emrys had provided him with, but he also hadn't forgotten that whatever he may say in his defense, he had also killed the king. Arthur's own father. That was something he could never forgive.

"I want to meet the druid", he said finally.

Percival's expression changed and he looked a bit uncomfortable. "Sure, but you should know that she's a mute, sir."  
"A mute", Arthur repeated. "She can't talk."

"She can write", Percival stated. "And I can translate sign language to some extent."

"Right", Arthur sighed. "But as I said, we need to hurry."

* * *

"There's a cavern under Ealdor", Eamon choked up. His tense shoulders seemed to relax as Merlin's magic flowed through him.

The warlock himself seemed to be walking in a fog. His head was unfocused, and his fever was higher than ever - but Eamon's words caused him to force his senses to sharpen up.

"There's a what?"

"A cavern", Eamon repeated. "It can only be accessed from half a mile from here, though."

Merlin hadn't actually thought that people would think of anything when he asked for suggestions about the sorcerer's location.

"Thank you", he breathed, grabbing the last potion he had left and downed it in his throat. The warm liquid burned in his throat, and he grimaced.

"I'll be right back."

The man staggered to his feet, the floor swaying dangerously under him. After he was moderately sure he wouldn't pass out, he made his way to the door.

The cold air greeted him harshly, and he shivered violently.

 _This is not good… not good at all._

Merlin gathered up his strength and felt the potion beginning to affect him. The warlock made his way towards the village entrance, that was still guarded.

The people who had helped them and continued to do so had set up tents outside the village. In one large and open tent he could see Arthur, Gaius and Gwen, deep in conversation.

"I need to speak with the king", Merlin muttered to the guard. He glanced at the other and then nodded. The guard lightly jogged towards the king's tent, delivering the message. Arthur's head popped up and his eyes landed on Merlin.

It caused an immediate reaction. The king abandoned whatever he'd been doing and almost ran to the gate, Gaius right behind him.

"Merlin, why aren't you in bed?" he asked tightly. "Did Emrys heal you?"

"Yeah, he did", Merlin breathed. "But I'm here to tell you…" The man kept a small pause, his lungs aching from the cold. Arthur's concern was visible from his storm-blue eyes and from the anxious frown between his brows.

"Relax", Merlin sighed. "I'll be okay. Hi, Gaius. Good to see you, Gwen."

The physician nodded at him and smiled tightly and Gwen gave her the prettiest, most compassionate smile.

"There's a cavern under Ealdor", Merlin said slowly. "I heard of it from Eamon - I didn't even know such a place existed. Gaius, do you know of it?"

"Yes", the old man replied slowly. "It was used for druid refugees during the Great Purge. I thought it had been sealed off a long time ago."

"No, it's still there from what I hear", Merlin said. "The entrance is half a mile away from here."

"That must be where the sorcerer is hiding", Arthur exclaimed.

"Merlin!" Gwaine's voice yelled, and before they knew it, a group of knights rushed a the gates and were barely stopped by the Essetirian guards.

"Hey", the manservant smiled weakly.

"We know where the sorcerer is", Arthur informed them. "Prepare for a fight." The knights nodded, muttering words of encouragement to their sick friend before heading for their tents.

"Merlin", Arthur said quietly. "You should let Emrys know… that the sorcerer is Mordred's brother, Melehan. And he wants revenge on both of us for killing him."

Merlin swallowed, his throat dry. He nodded tightly. "I see. I'll be sure to tell him that."

The young man's eyes faced Gaius'. The old physician looked back, deep worry swimming in his eyes.

* * *

Arthur stared into the cave. It's entrance looked like a black mouth, ready to swallow them all. He tried not to imagine the horror these stone walls had held inside - the fear of druidic people on the run. The sound of horses running on top of them as the king's men searched and searched. It felt like their prayers had been latched on to the walls around him.

"Come on", Arthur said with determination, squeezing the hilt of Excalibur tight. An unexplainable fear seemed to freeze his skin the deeper they went.

Something horrible had happened here, all those years ago. Something very wrong.

He heard a sickening crunch under his boot and looked down. Gwaine lit the ground with his torch and they both pulled back.

It was a bone from a human ribcage. The rest of it was scattered around. The knights looked at each other and Arthur let out a deep exhale.

"Let's keep moving."

The deeper they went the more bones they found - most of them were entire skeletons, that had over the years been partially buried under the dirt and sand.

"What happened here?" asked Gwaine stiffly.

"Take a guess", Lancelot replied quietly. "This is what the Great Purge left behind."

Arthur's throat seemed tight and dry as he saw the skeleton of a child - must have been someone under ten years old.

It was so wrong.

Arthur narrowed his eyes as something suddenly caught his attention. There was light coming from ahead.

He lifted his arm up to sign his knights to slow down. They began sneaking, watching every step and dumping the torches.

The king's heart was thumping louder in his ears.

"We must be right under Ealdor", Leon whispered, glancing at the stone ceiling.

"Arthur Pendragon", a sudden, loud voice greeted them. Arthur froze in place, acknowledging the fact they'd been discovered.

A man, about the same age as him, walked towards them from where the light was shining. "I've been expecting you. It took you way longer than I thought it would."

"Are you Melehan?" the king asked, his grip on Excalibur tightening.

"You know of me?" the druid frowned in confusion. "How in the world?"

"That's not important", Arthur stated. "You're Mordred's brother… right?"

The man's blue eyes were an exact match for Mordred's, and the king flinched. He'd once had hope for Mordred. He'd once been a loyal knight of his. Arthur had once trusted Mordred with his life.

Before it all went wrong.

Arthur unsheathed his sword and his knights did the same. Melehan dropped the hood that had been covering his face, cocking an eyebrow at the knights who were facing him in fighting stance.

Melehan's facial features were also staggeringly similar to Mordred's - angular face, pale skin, soft brown curls. His hair was shoulder-length, though, and his eyes were cold, like a pair of glass shards.

The druid's icy eyes shifted from the rest of the knights to Arthur and locked themselves in his.

"You will lead me straight to Emrys. Or I'll snap their necks."

Arthur gritted his teeth, surging forward.

The next few seconds were a hassle. An amulet around Melehan's neck started glowing with crimson light, blinding them all for a second as the druid's voice changed to a thunderous chant:

" **Becnyttan þæs hláfordswicas, cyrf hiera orpung!"** An unknown force made the knights kneel. The pressure was pushing Arthur down, and even with his muscles fighting back with everything he had, there was no release. The knights were yelling out curses in frustration.

"Your sword…" Melehan muttered to himself, kneeling next to the Excalibur, that had fallen down to the dust. "Not a mortal blade, this one. Even magic couldn't heal a wound caused by this sword."

The druid picked it up, admiring the lightness and the balance as the red light from his amulet danced on the metal.

"Not even Emrys could heal you should I run this blade through you right now", Melehan murmured. "I know I can take him. He's an old man, and…" the druid's blinked, smiling faintly. "A little bird told me he was injured in Essetir."

Arthur let out a ragged breath. "You can dream, druid."

Anger slashed behind Melehan's eyes. "I have the Crimson Amulet of the Ancients on my side, and the Staff of Worms as my weapon. Emrys might be strong, but I will beat him. And once I do… his power shall be mine."

The king's heartbeat quickened. "What do you mean?"

"This amulet can do wonderful things, you know", Melehan smirked. "Should I manage to kill him, his life force will be stored into this gem." He tapped on the glowing ruby hanging around his neck. "This amulet will hold a power unlike anything else."

Arthur swallowed and as he looked behind him, at his knights, he saw _fear_ flash in Lancelot's eyes. It was strange - that knight was never afraid, never cowardly - but now there was fear in him.

 _Could this druid truly kill Emrys?_

"Let's move it", Melehan barked, pressing te tip of Excalibur against Arthur's back. "Get up, king of Camelot."

Arthur grimaced as the pressure on him was released. The knights were forced to march down the tunnel in front of them. Their pace was stiff, as if still partially bound by the spell.

"Your brother turned against me", Arthur said quietly, out of breath as they made their way towards the outside world.

"You slaughtered the girl he loved", Melehan growled, the tip of the king's sword slightly drawing blood from his back. "Did you expect him to stand by your side after that?"

"I expected Mordred to be loyal to his king", Arthur murmured back. "And the girl he loved was a fanatic who wanted nothing good for Camelot. She was a danger to my kingdom."  
"Shut up", Melehan spat. "You killed her because she was a magic-user. I don't understand why Emrys would ever side with _you_ , against his own people, when you would have him executed with the rest of us."  
Arthur replied nothing at first.

"I don't claim to know Emrys. I've only met him a few times, but what I have understood is that he holds power unlike anything I've ever seen. Morgana couldn't beat him, how could you?" the other end of the cave was now in their sights.

"I told you", Melehan replied with a cold tone. "I have the magic of the Ancients with me."

Something in the druid's tone sent shivers down Arthur's spine.

* * *

"EMRYS!" a thundering voice ran echoed through the village, and Merlin woke up with a flinch. Shiver ran through him and his vision seemed slightly black on the sides. He coughed weakly but forced himself up and looked around.

The people were exiting their houses and walking out of the village. The stronger were supporting the weaker as they wrapped up in their blankets and cloaks. Merlin stood up, staggering, and her mother appeared from the back room.

"What's going on?" Hunith asked, glancing at his son with concern.

"They found the sorcerer", Merlin muttered. "This is bad - I have no time to cook up an aging potion."

"EMRYS!"

Merlin flinched again.  
"Who's Emrys?" Hunith asked, turning her feverish eyes towards the warlock.

"That's what the druids call me", he stated quietly. Inside him, a panic was starting to rise.

"Arthur doesn't know about you yet, does he?" her voice was careful.

Merlin's tone was strained and rough. "No, he doesn't."

"We need to get out, the sorcerer is threatening to set the whole village on fire. We can't risk it", Eamon appeared behind them, squeezing both their shoulders.

"Come on, Merlin", Hunith whispered. "We need to get out of here."

The warlock nodded, his breath wheezing.

 _Am I really able to fight now?_ _How strong is he?_

"EMRYS!" the voice sent shivers down his spine. The people had gathered to a field next to Ealdor. He saw Gwen, Gaius, the knights, Arthur…

And the druid. Excalibur was pressed against the king's back.

"Get out here this instant, or I'll run your precious king through with his own sword!"

Merlin flinched again, and he was given a small amount of comfort from her mother, who squeezed his hand with her own.

The people settled and it was quiet. Not even any birds singing. The skies were ominously dark, and Merlin shivered with fever.

His eyes faces Gaius', and there was a deep fear on the old physician's face. He shook his head slightly. Merlin blinked, turning his head away.

"I know you're here Emrys", Melehan continued, his enraged eyes raking the crowd. "I can _feel_ you. I can feel your _magic_!"

Something angry sparked inside Merlin. He wasn't shivering any longer.

 _This is it. It's time. It's time for me to step out of the shadows._ And suddenly the thought seemed so terrifying he could swear his heart was paralyzed for a few seconds.

Then he drew in a breath, opening a mental link with the druid. " _Stop this. Let Arthur go, and you'll have your fight."_

Melehan froze in place. Then a grin slowly spread on his face. " _There you are."_

The druid sheathed Excalibur to his own belt and sent Arthur walking forwards until he was met with the crowd. The knights surrounded him immediately.

Melehan's aura pulsed with power. At the same time something clicked inside his head.

 _There's no going back now. There's nothing holding me back._

 _I can let go._

"Come on!" the druid screamed. Merlin took a step forward in the midst of the crowd. He slowly walked up to the knights. Lancelot glanced at him, meeting the warlock's eyes.

Sympathy, fear and other emotions that Merlin couldn't read were swimming in the knight's eyes. The warlock nodded at him, walking past him.

Arthur saw Merlin. They were standing at the edge of the crowd, and the king seemed to jump forward upon seeing his manservant.

"Merlin, what are you doing?"

 _Oh, Arthur._ Merlin faced the king's eyes. "Forgive me", he mouthed.

Then he turned to face the empty space between him and Melehan.

" _Let nothing hold you back. Show yourself - be exactly the warlock you were meant to be",_ Morgana's voice whispered at the back of his head.

It was as if a weight shifted off of Merlin's chest. His heart was beating freely inside him.

He took another step forward.

Melehan saw him now. "Who are you?" the druid sniffed, raising his chin. "Aren't you the king's manservant? The one who came to this village a few days ago?"  
"I am indeed", he replied simply.

"Well then get out of my way", Melehan's voice was impatient. "I only want Emrys. Are you his informant? His apprentice, or something? Tell the old man to get out from whatever hole he's hiding in!"

Merlin's lips turned to a slight smile. "I'm not his informant."

Melehan raised his brows as the skinny man began walking forward, circling him.

"Merlin, have you completely lost your mind?" Arthur hissed as the other knights were holding him back. "Get _back here._ "

The servant threw a sad glance towards his king. "It's strange, isn't it.." Merlin said slowly, still watching Arthur. "How an aging spell can trick people."

Melehan's expression turned into shock. " _You._ The king's servant. You're Emrys?"

"I prefer to be called Merlin", he replied sharply.

"Wait", Melehan looked confused. "You've been _hiding_ by the king's side all this time? Witnessing your kind being executed by his orders?" Anger crept into his tone. " _Helping_ him do it?"

Merlin didn't reply. Melehan continued, fury and poison dripping from his words.

"And then you had to go and kill my brother. Had you been by his and Morgana's side, the Five Kingdoms could now be a place where the magic folk can live in peace again."

"Peace?" Merlin spat. "Is this what you call _peace_? Why would the people _ever_ trust sorcerers when there's a crazed mage trying to take over the world every other week? What _reason_ do they have to trust us? It's because of people like _you_!" His anger caused a distant thunder to echo in the clouds, and Merlin felt his magic pulsing under his skin.

"Your hands are shaking, Emrys", Melehan said quietly. "You're too weak to fight. How much healing power have you used today? How big of a toll does it take when you turn into an 80-year-old man and back?"

Merlin narrowed his eyes. "If I'm too weak to fight you… then what are you waiting for?"

Melehan grabbed the staff that had been strapped to his back. "You and the Pendragon will regret ever touching my brother."

Merlin made an effort not to look at Arthur's face. Actually, he made an effort not to look at anything else except for the opponent in front of him. Melehan was much taller than him, towering over his thin figure. Even the man's shadow seemed to become longer as he chanted:

" **Abrecan!** "

* * *

Arthur watched as a bolt of white, pure force formed from the crystal that was resting at the tip of the metal staff Melehan was holding onto. The sorcerer aimed towards his manservant, and to Arthur it still looked like his friend was a leaf who could be blown away by the wind at any second. He was so thin and looked so weak, wrecked by the disease. The situation didn't allow Arthur to process his thoughts and feelings, as the air was filled with electric tension.

Merlin raised his hand - his posture was still barely a fighting stance. It looked more as if he was saying hello, holding his hand against the energy that was thrown against him.

It was bright. Arthur had to squint to be able to keep watching. Merlin didn't move an inch, and even when the king's every instinct was screaming at him to go and pull his stupid manservant back to safety, he couldn't deny what his own eyes were seeing.

Merlin's eyes flashed golden. It looked so wrong - those were the eyes of a beast, a killer. Someone dangerous, someone to be feared.

Merlin was his stupid, harmless and frankly, _weak_ manservant, who could barely hold a shield for twenty minutes.

Yet, he was barely making an effort at keeping Melehan's attack at bay.

"Fight back, Emrys", Melehan snarled. "I want some life in you." A dagger was lifted from Gwaine's belt by an unrecognisable force, and suddenly Arthur found it hovering next to his own throat. As he looked up, he saw that Merlin's hand was now extended to his direction.

"You will not touch him." There was something ominous about his voice, a tone he'd never heard Merlin use. He sounded _dangerous._

Arthur looked at his manservant, at the change in his posture and realised that the man he'd grown to love as a brother figure, the constant companion in his life for the past eight years, was now barely recognisable. He looked taller, he stood with his back straight, and there was barely any expression on his face. Merlin's usually vibrant and lively blue eyes had turned to empty blue shards. The dagger fell to the ground.

"It's your last chance to back down, Melehan", Merlin said quietly, so that Arthur barely heard him. "I suggest you take it."

"You're kidding, right?" the druid spat. "You're trying to look tough when in reality you can barely stand."

Merlin said nothing. Arthur heard his own heartbeat echo in his ears when he watched as bright flames sparked to life on both of his servant's palms. Golden light swam in the skinny man's eyes once again, and the flames jumped to life.

Arthur was taken aback when the fire grew into a large wall of flames. The fire was _alive._ Merlin's posture changed again. The king frowned as he saw the servant slowly move the tip of his shoe on the ground, making a circle.

The fire seemed to obey whatever command he had just given it - the flames arranged themselves around him, almost covering him from sight. Merlin's both hands were slightly raised and there was a feverish determination in his eyes.

Melehan scoffed, whipping his staff in the air. A powerful, transparent aura advanced towards Merlin and his fire. The servant turned on his heels, his fingers grasping through the flames, and as he turned back he hurled the fire towards Melehan with an exploding speed.

Arthur blinked as the two forces faced each other - Merlin's fire burned through Melehan's aura with ease. The flames licked away the sorcerer's defences, and Merlin's hands were forming shapes in the air, the fire mimicking his movements.

It was sorcery unlike anything Arthur had seen since Emrys' fight with Morgana.

' _Merlin is Emrys'_ whispered the voice inside his head. _He's been lying to you all this time. He's a traitor. A deceiver. An enemy of Camelot._

Arthur swallowed, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes.

Melehan suddenly replied by sending out a sharp, blue wave of electricity towards Merlin. The king stiffened, watching as Merlin's flames disappeared and instead he cupped his hands, catching the lighting effortlessly and forming it into a ball on his palm.

Arthur let out a breath he'd been holding as Merlin sent it back flying, and it hit Melehan in the middle of the chest. He let out a snarl, falling heavily on his back.

The king couldn't help but notice that Merlin was staggering on his feet. He looked exhausted, like a person who hadn't slept in a week.

However, the servant successfully walked up to the druid who was desperately attempting to get back on his feet.

The staff lay a few feet away from Melehan, and Merlin grabbed it from the ground. The thin man glanced coldly at his opponent. Arthur's breath got stuck in hit throat as he witnessed the staff beginning to crack in Merlin's grasp. Ash began to fall from between the black-haired man's fingers, and before their eyes, the staff turned to ash and blew away with the strong wind.

Merlin looked at his hand, his expression neutral.

What happened next nearly stopped Arthur's heart. Melehan had gotten up and as Merlin's attention had been directed elsewhere. He had taken out Excalibur.

And proceeded to run it through Merlin's gut.

Blood rushed in his ears, and he heard someone yell. It was Merlin's mother. Gwaine surged forward, but Percival held him back.

"You son of a bitch, fight like a man instead of stabbing people in the back!" the enraged knight screamed.

Arthur watched in a haze as the servant fell to his knees. The king's sword was colored red from his blood.

 _Even magic couldn't heal wounds caused by this sword,_ he still heard Melehan's calculating voice inside his head.

"No", a choked whisper escaped his mouth. Merlin's expression was aghast as he looked down at the blade that was buried in his flesh. There was a grin on Melehan's face.

"Your power is mine, Emrys."

A few seconds passed and Arthur's legs felt like they were frozen in place. A few people cried. Arthur realised that Lancelot was saying something.

"Come on, Merlin. Get up _._ " the knight murmured.

Something happened. Arthur felt a strange sensation first in his fingertips, then all around him - a tingling electricity, spreading through his body and sending shivers down his spine. A warm but strong wind blew against his face and ruffled his hair.

Merlin looked different. He was still hunched over and on his knees, but he was slowly raising his head. Melehan's expression was puzzled at first, but it slowly turned to fear.

Merlin's eyes were glowing. Not the usual, golden-honey coloured hue - but actually _glowing_ , a blinding white-golden light. A noticeable, warm aura surrounded the thin man, telling of the raw power radiating from him.

Arthur shivered. This was his _manservant_ , for gods' sakes. His idiotic, bumbling manservant, who polished his armour and sharpened his sword.

All this time, he'd been holding in a power like this?

Melehan was slowly being pushed back by an invisible force. His feet left trails on the ground.

Merlin was getting back on his feet. He grabbed Excalibur's hilt, slowly pulling it out of his flesh. Merlin's eyes were still glowing like a pair of flaming stars. He didn't even flinch as the sword was pulled through his insides.

"This is impossible", Melehan choked out. "What _are_ you?"

Merlin's magic caused the sword sink halfway to the ground. The warlock opened his mouth, and Arthur realised the light was pouring out from the back of his throat as well as his eyes. Threads of golden light circled the man's body.

Merlin's voice was no longer recognisable. It was deep, dark and held in a power that caused everyone present to shiver.

" ** _I am magic_**."

Merlin raised his hand, and Melehan yelled in frustration, summoning a ball of energy between his fingertips. It paled down next to the light shining from Merlin's eyes.

Melehan's attack travelled quickly towards Merlin's blood-covered stomach. Time seemed to slow down as Merlin drew a simple circle in the air with his finger. It left behind a black hole in the air, a darkness. Melehan's attack sucked into it immediately, and in a matter of a second another hole opened up - behind the druid. His own magic hit him in the back, sending him face down on the ground.

Arthur drew in a breath. The way Merlin was fighting was… amazing, quite frankly. Threads of light still circled his arms and torso, radiating power.

"No", Melehan choked. "I will not lose you. You killed my _brother!_ "

 **Drýcræft sylfum ærgeweorc, beflowan þéáh mec, lǣnan þín ríce æt mec, bot mec beinnan mín earfoþhwíl!"** The druid's voice turned quieter and his eyes turned to a dangerously fiery-coloured gold as he said: " **Áwæcne þæs forescýwa ond gléd."**

Melehan's entire body stiffened as he fell to his knees. His clothes began burning, sparks erupting from his skin and scorching it black. The druid's eye sockets turned into flaming pits, fire and ash replacing his skin. A scream echoed through the field, and parents covered their children's ears.

"Get back!" Arthur yelled, life returning to his limbs again. The ground beneath Melehan's feet caught fire. The druid looked like a living flame, and in horror the king realised he was beginning to grow in size.

"Run!" he yelled and the crowd of people began fleeing in terror.

"Gaius, what on Earth is going on here?" he growled as he reached the physician. The old man glanced at him quickly, then behind him at the still-growing abomination.

"That's ancient magic. It's going to destroy Melehan entirely, but he'll have a power unlike anything we've ever seen."

"More powerful than Merlin?" Arthur glared at him as the people ran past them. Anger boiled inside the king.

"I can't say that I know, sire", Gaius replied stiffly and out of breath, avoiding the king's eyes.

That's when an ear-aching growl travelled through the land. Melehan was now approximately the height of Camelot's towers. His form still looked like that of a man's, but his skin was black, like scorched embers, and still burning. Sparks showered down from the cracks of his skin as he threw his head back and screeched at the sky.

It looked like something out of the end of the world.

 _That is not from this world. It does not belong here._

The creature's skull was cloaked in shadowy, dark fire. Arthur's eyes turned towards Merlin, who had been forced to retreat a little.

His eyes were glowing like a pair of candles.

* * *

Merlin stared as the creature's fiery, gigantic form towered over him.

He couldn't actually see anything anymore, per se. He was barely even conscious, but the magic flowing through him didn't allow him to pass out. Merlin didn't need sound, sight or smell - magic was the only sense he needed.

The burning giant's skeleton-like hands came together and began forming a ball of fire to hurl at him. A power unlike anything Merlin had ever seen before was radiating from the creature that had once been Melehan.

He'd never witnessed magic like this.

 _It's okay. Let go,_ a voice whispered at the back of his head. Again, Merlin recognised it to be Morgana's. Her smooth, sweet voice soothed him.

 _Let go_ , she whispered.

 _No_ , Merlin thought as the fire beast's hand slammed against his invisible barriers.

 _Let go_.

Flaming hands struck his shields over and over again.

 _I won't._

His barrier was melting away from the heat.

 _Let go._

 _Let go._

 _Let GO-_

And he did. He let go.

* * *

Arthur couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene. The titanic, fire-covered foe was mercilessly covering Merlin's tiny form in a storm of fire. He could no longer see the servant.

Until a light broke out fires. The flames burning the field subsided.

Arthur saw Merlin. The glow from his eyes was brighter than ever.

The beast stretched its arm towards the servant. Merlin extended his arms forward, towards the beast. Arthur groaned as a high-pitched ringing filled his head. The electric current in the air was released.

Then the beast screamed. Arthur forced himself to look, and saw its body quite literally being blown away by the wind. It tried to fight it, tried to run against whatever power Merlin was using to make its body melt away.

Sparks erupted from the huge body. They were disappearing into the air. Black smoke covered the field as the beast slowly evaporated and faded away with the wind.

The beast's roars still echoed in the air even after its body had disappeared. Darkness fell over the opening, the light from Merlin's eyes still not fading.

Silence had fallen. Arthur could still hear the panicked, confused breaths of the people around him. Everyone was staring at the person still standing in the middle of the burned field. Raindrops had silently began falling, and Arthur blinked as they landed on his skin.

Lancelot was the first one to move, then Gwaine. The rest of the knights follower behind and Arthur remembered how to move.

Lancelot and Gwaine were jogging towards the servant's figure, still glowing unnaturally. Arthur noticed that Merlin's mother, Gwen and Gaius were following them.

"Merlin", Lancelot addressed him. The servant looked at the knight, who had squint his eyes in order to keep looking at the man's face.

"It's over, mate", Gwaine said quietly. "You can… calm down."

Arthur swallowed, as Merlin's eyes turned towards him. Suddenly, the aggressively blinding light began to dim, leaving behind the normal golden hue that every sorcerer had while performing magic.

Arthur was confused, though - usually the gold was only present for a second before it was gone. Merlin's eyes didn't change back to blue.

There was so much emotion in the servant's eyes.

 _I'm sorry_ , they said. _I'm so sorry._

"I have to go", the thin man stated. His voice sounded layered and it echoed unnaturally. His eyes glanced at Hunith and Gaius before turning away.

Something seemed to ignite in Merlin's feet. It looked like fire, and to Arthur's horror it seemed to be eating the servant's feet away, and in a matter of seconds it made Merlin's entire body disappear to the wind.

"Wait!" he yelled. Arthur stared at the empty space in front of him.

"Where did he go?" he snapped. Gaius shook his head and Hunith shrugged, eyes watery. Arthur glanced at the crowd over his shoulder. People seemed to be celebrating.

"I don't think I'm sick anymore", someone said.

"Me neither", said another.

Arthur's air was stuck in his throat. It took a moment, but he slowly gained the ability to speak again.

"It has to be a trick", he mumbled. "A shapeshifting spell or something, the real Merlin would never… could never…"

"Arthur", Lancelot's voice was soft. "It was Merlin."

"You knew?" the king asked, turning his eyes towards the knight. Lancelot faced him with certainty.

"Yes."

Arthur bit his bottom lip, nodding. "You knew, and I didn't."

He slowly turned around, making his way to the tents. Someone pulled his sword out of the ground.

"Arthur!" Gwen's voice reached his ears. He didn't stop.

The king sank to the nearest chair inside his tent, staring at the dirt floor.

 _Merlin is a sorcerer. No, not just a sorcerer - a powerful one._

 _Merlin? Seriously? That clumsy fool could wield such power?_

"Arthur?" Gwen stepped into the tent. Her face was red, and there were tears on her face.

The king didn't greet her, just gave her a pained glance.

"All this time…" his voice was quiet, disappointed. "He's been lying to my face."

"Of course he has", Gwen whispered. "You would have executed him."  
Arthur scoffed. "Not sure what I'd have done."

Suddenly it all seemed to make sense. Merlin's strange wisdom, the way he'd been going against Camelot's enemies behind Arthur's back, the secrecy.

"He's loyal to you, Arthur. He would never do anything to harm you."

"Maybe he's just been waiting for the right moment to kill me", the king growled.

Gwen let out a sigh. "You seriously believe that? He's your _best friend._ "

Arthur said nothing, just stared ahead.

 _How could I ever trust someone like that? Someone who wields a power that no one else but God should have?_

"Then why did he leave?" Arthur whispered. "How _could_ he leave?"

"Arthur, he was stabbed by the same sword Morgana was killed with", Gwen said shakily. "He's dying. He could be lying in a ditch somewhere out there."

"Do you think that's the case after what we just saw him do?" Arthur scoffed. "How could he hold such power?"

He lowered his head. "Why do the people I trust the most keep betraying me? Morgana, Agravaine, Mordred, now _Merlin_ …"

"Arthur", Gwen whispered. "He's your _friend."_

"No he's not", Arthur replied, feeling empty. "Did you not see what he did? What kind of power he has?"

Gwen said nothing, so Arthur continued, dark-toned and feeling older than ever.

"He's a threat to all of the Five Kingdoms."

* * *

Merlin woke up.

"Good morning, sunshine", the familiar voice of Morgana chirped. The warlock flinched, turning his head towards the mirage.

Morgana tilted her head, her pale green eyes turning pondering.

"How are you feeling?"

Merlin let out a sigh. "How long have I been here?"  
"I don't know, to be honest", the witch replied. "Maybe two or three days."

Merlin groaned, his head sinking back to the grassy ground.

"Where am I?" he frowned, looking around in confusion. It was a lake, covered in fog. Was he on… an island?

"This is lake Avalon", Morgana said softly. "You brought yourself here, but you had some help… from Freya and the Great Dragon."

"I did?" Merlin muttered, trying to make sense of what had happened. "Wait… I- I was stabbed."

He turned to look down at his stomach, grasping at the tunic to lift it up, only to see a scar on his pale skin.

 _What a fine addition to my collection_ , Merlin thought bitterly. He sat up.

"I won against that… thing?" he muttered to himself, thinking about the gigantic flaming beast, that looked like it had risen straight from Hell.

"You sure did, _Emrys_ ", Morgana sighed. "You showed everyone what you're capable of."

Merlin felt like his heart stopped for a while as he remembered.

 _Arthur knows._

 _Arthur knows._

 _Arthur knows-_

"Well sure he does", the witch scoffed. "Doesn't it feel better? Lighter?"

"No", Merlin swallowed hard. "No, it doesn't."  
"It'll be much better this way, with him knowing", Morgana looked Merlin in the eye. "You can finally be free."

"Free?" Merlin repeated, unbelieving. "He's going to hate me. He'll most likely banish me or attempt to execute me."

"Yes", Morgana seemed confused. "That's the point. You're free of Camelot's bonds. You're free to do _magic_ , Merlin. You no longer have to be afraid. It's all out there now."

Merlin stared at the dew-covered grass in front of him. He could feel the lake around him pulsate with an energy he'd never felt before and he sighed deep.

"None of that matters if Arthur doesn't want me around."

"You love him way too much", Morgana scoffed. "He doesn't deserve it."

Merlin glared at her but stayed quiet, so the witch continued:

"Go meet him. You better get it out of the way sooner than later."

" **You're seeing the witch now, are you?** " Merlin flinched as he heard the deep, rough voice of Kilgharrah. He turned around and faced the huge head of the ancient, wise creature.

"Yes", Merlin said weakly. "I know she's a figment of my imagination, but…"

" **She seems real to you**."

"Yeah", he whispered.

" **And now the young Pendragon finally knows your secret** ", Kilgharrah tilted his huge head and blinked his eyes.

"He hates me", Merlin said quietly. "And he doesn't know everything, yet. He only knows I've got magic."

Kilgharrah didn't say anything, but instead stayed still, as his silent support.

" **Avalon's waters and my powers healed your wound, but you're still weak. However, I suggest you try and meet with Arthur before he reaches Camelot again. It could be… dangerous for you to go into the city right now."**

There was hidden sorrow and worry in the dragon's voice. Merlin swallowed, hard, avoiding Morgana's piercing eyes.

* * *

Arthur and his knights were on the return journey home. Gwen had gone ahead of them, but Arthur had taken a detour to Essetir's capital and visited king Lot to let him know Ealdor was safe and the sorcerer was defeated.

Keeva, the woodland druid who was from the same tribe as Melehan, seemed relieved and quite frankly, had been awe-struck by Merlin - no, Emrys.

The strange thing Arthur had heard of was that Lilith, the girl who'd been a friend of Merlin's, had left Ealdor immediately after he saw Merlin's true colours. Apparently she resented magic about as much as Arthur's father had.

It was getting dark. "We'll make camp here", Arthur stated hollowly, slowing his horse down.

They didn't really chatter. Even Gwaine was quiet now, sunken into his thoughts.

"Why did you know of Merlin and I didn't?" Arthur asked when Lancelot walked past him. The knight turned his head around, hesitating.

"I saw him do magic", he said quietly. "During our fight with the griffin. The creature couldn't be killed without magic, so Merlin… gave me a hand, so to speak."

Arthur scoffed, nodding. "Right."

Then he turned on his heels and walked into the tent that Percival and Leon had just worked out. He felt Lancelot's eyes on his back, but quite frankly he didn't care.

The night went by without Arthur sleeping an eye. He played with Excalibur, thinking back of all the years Merlin had spent side by side with him. All the memories, the dangers the servant had followed him in.

 _It can't all be a lie. Can it?_

Arthur couldn't wait to speak with Gaius. The physician had avoided the king skilfully for the past few days, staying busy with all the people who still needed to recover from the disease.

He couldn't stay away from the king forever, that much Arthur knew.

Gaius would explain everything, maybe shed some light on exactly what had driven Merlin to betray him like this.

"Arthur."

The king jumped to his feet in alarm, pulling his sword as he recognised the voice.

Merlin was there - in his familiar, frayed tunic and jacket and his stupid red neckerchief. The man's thin form looked healthier now, and his eyes had deceivingly returned to their sapphire-coloured state.

"How did you get here?"

"I sneaked in", Merlin shrugged. "Thought you might want to have a chat."

"No", Arthur growled. "I don't."

Merlin flinched at the razor-sharp edge in his voice. "I'm not your enemy, Arthur", he said slowly.

Arthur was being ripped apart inside, trying to decide whether to keep his stance or to lower his sword.

This was _Merlin._

"All these years, Merlin", the king said, his voice low. "How many times have you used magic on me? For your own advantage?"

"What?" Merlin's voice was aghast.

"Yeah", Arthur was seeing red. "You've managed to deceive me for this long. You must have put a spell on me."

"I never used any spell to deceive you", Merlin's voice was quiet, submissive. "I've healed you from your wounds a couple of times, though."

Arthur scoffed. "Right. I've just been blind to you, right?"

Merlin made a face. "Basically?"

"Give me a break", he turned his back on the servant. "You _betrayed_ me."

"Arthur, if you'd just listen-"

"I don't _want to listen_!" the king thundered, turning around with force and swinging his sword in forward.

Merlin was closer than he'd thought - he hadn't actually meant to cut the man. The servant's palm had a bloody cut from his sword, and the look on his face was what was killing Arthur.

Merlin snapped his mouth shut, staring at Arthur as his eyes quickly flashed golden and the cut faded away.

Arthur's voice was stuck in his throat.

 _Did I really just do that? Cut Merlin? Draw his blood?_

"Who's betraying who here, Arthur?" the servant's voice was quiet and distant. There was an empty look in his usually so vibrant eyes.

"What's going on here?" Leon's face appeared to the tent's entrance, and paled upon seeing Merlin. The servant walked past the knight without the taller man making any effort in stopping him.

"Merlin", Arthur marched after him. " _Why?"_

"'Why' what, Arthur?" Merlin turned on his heels, hurt and anger visible from his eyes. He'd never known how to hide his feelings.

"Merlin", Gwaine breathed, the rest of the knights gathering around them as they stepped outside to the campsite.

"Why did you never tell me?" Arthur's voice cracked, but he kept his head up, desperately staring at Merlin's eyes.

The stony expression on the servant's face softened a little. "Exactly because of all this."

With that, the thin man turned around and walked into the woods. Gwaine and Lancelot ran after him, but returned a minute later saying he was gone, disappeared to the wind.

Arthur turned his back on the forest, marching back into his tent.

He felt like screaming, crying and throwing up all at the same time. Questions like "why" and "how" where circling inside his head.

 _Why do the best people in my life keep leaving me? The people I hold most important?_

Arthur ran his hands through his hair, pulling just enough for it to be painful.

 _Out of all the people in my life, I could handle losing_ anyone _else, but why you? WHY?_

* * *

Spells:

" **Becnyttan þæs hláfordswicas, cyrf hiera orpung!** (Bind the traitos, cut their air!)

 **Drýcræft sylfum ærgeweorc, beflowan þéáh mec, lǣnan þín ríce æt mec, bot mec beinnan mín earfoþhwíl!"** ("Magic of the ancients, flow through me, lend your strength to me, help me in my time of need!") " **Áwæcne þæs forescýwa ond gléd."** ("Awaken the shadow and flame.")

 **OKAY HELLO HI AGAIN**

 **So this is the much-requested magic reveal chapter. I actually was planning to have it done much later in the story but since everyone wanted it, here it is.  
I know that in the actual series magic isn't shown to be so "flashy" but personally I don't give a damn and I'm going flashy as fuck. It's my story and I can do that :)  
The next three-four chapters are going to be revolving around the aftermath of Merlin's reveal and the true extent of his secret, but also what he's going to do next.** **The quote in the beginning is from the song "Your Story" by Joe Hertler & The Rainbow Seekers.**

 **Now then. I would greatly appreciate** _ **all**_ **reviews and I love all of you who keep reading this story. See you in the next chapter!  
**

 ** _1983Sarah_ \- Thank you for the feedback, good to know you enjoyed the chapter :)**

 ** _Mersan123_ \- Here you go, take it away with the reveal! I hope you like it, I know you've been following this fic for a long time. I'm glad you still find it interesting.**

 ** _Gingeraffealene_ \- Thank you so much for your sweet comment! I actually thought I was rubbish at writing the old Merlin but I find it comforting you found it readable ;) Hopefully this chapter didn't disappoint you either. **

**_Guest_ : Love the fact you've had opinions on several different chapters, thanks for sticking by! =)**

 ** _Trekmel_ : Well, I did continue it soon enough I hope =D I'm so glad you find it enjoyable. Keep reading! **


	9. Glitter and Gold

_I am flesh and I am bone_

 _Arise, ting ting,_

 _like glitter and gold_

 _I've got fire in my soul._

* * *

Snow fell in light, silent flakes through the crooked branches, landing on Merlin's raven-black hair. He didn't bother to move. He'd been sitting by the frozen lake of Avalon for what felt like days, but what couldn't have been more than a few hours. The cold had seeped into his bones, into every cell in his body, all the way to the soul. Merlin felt frozen, in time, in spirit, in everything.

 _You_

 _You betrayed_

 _You betrayed me._

Merlin looked down at his hands, pale and bony and trembling. These hands were capable of wielding the most complex forms of magic with ease, accompanied with a few hastily muttered words they could bring upon the end days upon anyone who threatened to stand in his way.

No wonder Arthur wanted him out of his sight. Merlin was dangerous - to himself, to Arthur, to entire Camelot. If he wanted to, he could turn the king's throne into dust and form it into a crown of his own. He could bring the citadel to the ground and bury under everyone who dared to oppose his will.

But why would he do that? Merlin didn't want such things. Just because he theoretically had the ability for it, he would never- he _could_ never…

A lonely tear slowly travelled its way down the warlock's cheek. It fell down his chin into the snow. Merlin closed his eyes, suddenly hearing the faint flap of wings.

He turned around with a frown, blinking rapidly as he was met with Aithusa's glimmering eyes. Their endless blue brought him solace, and he smiled ever so faintly.

"Hello, Aithusa."

Another form appeared from the woods, the thick serpent-like body slithering closer. Merlin nodded at the wyrm. "Qaidontin."

" _What is the matter, Emrys? Why are you here?"_ hissed the wyrm, tilting his head.

"Arthur knows about me. About my magic. He has banished me." Merlin's voice wavered. He bit his bottom lip, turning to face his two dragonic friends.

"I don't… I don't know where to go."

Aithusa snuggled closer to him, wrapping her tail around him and nudging his shoulder gently. The gesture came from a place of love, and Merlin stroked her scales eagerly. There was a sudden surge of warmth in his heart.

" _You must have friends outside Camelot. What of your home village?"_

Merlin sighed. "I can't go back to Ealdor. It would place them all in danger. And…" he stopped mid-sentence, frowning. "I do have a friend outside Camelot. He's a sorcerer too, his name's Gilli."

Qaidontin's emerald green eyes glimmered. " _Why don't you go find him, then?"_

Merlin hesitated for a moment. "I have no idea where he is. I don't even know his home village."

The wyrm let out a noise that almost sounded like a _sigh._ Merlin raised his brows.

" _You are the most powerful sorcerer ever to walk this earth_ ", Qaidontin stated. " _You can find him."_

Merlin moved uncomfortably. The wyrm was probably right… but he didn't have his book any longer. He didn't know any tracking spells from his memory.

Almost like having read the warlock's thoughts, Qaidontin hissed gently. " _You have no need for spells. You are a warlock, not a sorcerer. Just go to sleep_."

Merlin looked at the snowy ground. He winced, slowly lay on the cold sheet of snow. Qaidontin wrapped his body around him, and the scaled were comfortably warm around him. Aithusa placed one of her large wings on top of him, to shield him from the falling snow.

So much had happened. He'd recovered from the disease wreaked by Melehan, he'd survived being stabbed with a sword forged in dragon's breath, he'd confronted Arthur and he'd sat out here in the snow for half a day - he was lulled to sleep by the force of exhaustion alone.

* * *

 _It was dark - not dark like the forest at night, but dark like Camelot at duskfall. Clear enough to see. Merlin walked forwards in the forest he found himself in. The woods reached high into the skies, and he realised he was still within Camelot's forests. He knew these woods._

 _Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned around, focusing his vision. Something was moving midst the fallen leaves. He walked forwards, following the sound of rustling._

 _"Hello?" he called out. The sounds stopped._

 _"There you are", a cheery voice suddenly said. Merlin blinked, confused._

 _"You were expecting me? Who am I talking to?" he asked, only half expecting an answer._

 _The owner of the voice appeared to his vision. It was a snake. Or a wyrm. Merlin wasn't completely sure - he didn't feel the dragonic energy he did when with Aithusa or Qaidontin, but he was far too large to be a normal snake._

 _"Obviously I was expecting you", the serpent hissed. "I felt you."_

 _Merlin pondered his reply for a moment. "What are you?"_

 _The snake's golden-yellow eyes shone. "That's a question for another day. You're looking for a friend of yours, are you not?"_

 _Merlin swallowed, nodding. The serpent tilted his head to the left. The warlock looked at the direction he was pointing at, frowning at the sight._

 _It was a huge tree. The bark was wavy and patchy, hardened after being at nature's mercy for hundreds of years. Its roots were webbed on the ground likes snakes. Merlin felt a surge of magic radiate from it like nothing he ever felt before. The only thing comparable to it was the Crystal Cave. The branches quivered with suppressed magic. Merlin couldn't help but gawk._

 _"Go back. I'll guide you. You'll find us here."_

 _With that, Merlin woke up._

* * *

The warlock's eyes shot open and he sat up, dazed.

" _Emrys?"_ Qaidontin hissed, concerned. Aithusa was watching him closely.

"I'm okay", he assured them. "I know where to find him. I… think."

Aithusa removed her wing from him, and the raven-haired man stood up. He thought about the dream he'd just had and allowed his eyes to flash golden.

Merlin's mouth stretched to a smile. A golden trail was laid in front of him, and it suspiciously looked like something that a snake would leave in its wake if it slithered through the snow.

"This way", he stated, starting to follow the trail into the thickening woods. Qaidontin and Aithusa followed him.

Merlin couldn't help but think about his encounter with the serpent. Who was he? More importantly, _what_ was he? What did he mean when he said he'd _felt_ Merlin? Was Gilli really there? What was the blasted tree?

The warlock decided that all these questions would be answered once he'd reach the end of the golden trail.

It was nightfall by the time Merlin finally could feel something different in the air. It was magic, and it was thickening the further he followed the trail. It hung in the air like a blanket. Aithusa and Qaidontin felt it too, the wyrm giving an occasional remark about it every now and then. The feeling set Merlin's skin on goosebumps, but not in a bad way. It seemed to envelop him entirely, and it felt… _good._ Like it was inviting him.

The tree finally appeared. It was standing on a small clearing, stretching high into the sky, its branches touching the surrounding trees ever so slightly.

The golden trail led him right to the tree. He frowned, seeing finally where he was supposed to go. There was a wooden hatch on the ground, in the middle of the roots. It had a strangely carved handle on it, and as Merlin touched it, he felt the magic inside him tingle. The handle turned golden under his touch, and suddenly the hatch opened with ease. He frowned, looking inside - a warm light was shining from within, and sure enough he was freezing cold from having walked in the snow for a whole day.

Merlin glanced at his two friends, who nodded at him with encouragement. The warlock took in a deep sigh, and descending down the wooden ladder, into the underground lair.

* * *

He landed to the bottom, feeling the soft ground beneath his feet. He found himself in a surprisingly large space and saw the roots of the tree above him in the ceiling.

"Merlin", a familiar, warm voice greeted him. The warlock turned around, grinning as he saw Gilli. He hadn't changed much, but Merlin noticed he had more glee in his eyes than before.

"Gilli", he smiled, and the two closed the distance between them into a tight embrace.

"How are you my friend?" asked Gilli, as the two pulled apart. The man was keeping Merlin at an arm's length, studying him. "Crowley told me you'd be coming, but he didn't say why."

"Crowley?" Merlin repeated, confused. That's when a surprised and husky yelp of a clumsy dragon had them both turn around. Aithusa was laying on the ground as a bundle of wings and tail and legs, as Qaidontin slithered downwards with ease.

"Is that…" Gilli's breath had gotten stuck in his throat. Merlin smirked at him.

"A dragon. Yes. Aithusa, come meet Gilli." The white dragon had managed to get her limbs in order and approached sheepishly.

"Oh, and this is Qaidontin. He's a wyrm", Merlin explained, gesturing his second companion to approach. Gilli smiled at them nervously.

"Well, it is very good to meet you both. My name is Gilli. I'm a friend of Merlin's. Hi."

The sorcerer couldn't seem to help but to stare at the white dragon. Merlin stroked Aithusa's scales calmingly.

"What is this place?" Merlin asked finally. "And who was the snake I talked with? The one who showed me the way?"

Gilli sighed. "Oh, that would be Crowley, our Warden. He's the one who brought us all together. Come on, let's go meet everybody."

Merlin raised his brows, now having more questions than answers in his head. Gilli lead them deeper underground, into one of the tunnels that stretched into the earth. The ground was emanating warmth, despite the fact that it was winter and it should be freezing here. Merlin noticed the place was lit up with candles and fireplaces that were littered everywhere he landed his eyes. The slightly descending tunnel ended in an open room that was bustling with life.

Merlin tried to take everything in at once, but it just wasn't possible. There was a long table in the middle of the room, surrounded by ten chairs in total. A large fireplace had golden flames burning brightly in them, and Merlin realised quizzically it didn't have a chimney at all. The walls were practically plastered with books and jars that had herbs, berries, crystals and other objects in them. There was one that had what looked like fish eyeballs, and one that reminded him of worms but they were far too short (he would later learn they were, in fact, frog's tongues). A few books lay open in front of the fireplace, and in front of it lied what Merlin could only describe as an incorporeal cat. There was a cupboard entirely dedicated to potions with variable colours. Herbs were hanging from the ceiling in neatly wrapped bundles. He could recognise most of them - there was dittany, valerian, aconite, nettle, wormwood, and so much more. A few plants were growing in pots around the spacious room, and from what Merlin could tell they didn't look like anything he'd ever seen in nature.

"Well… hello?" someone finally interrupted the silence that Merlin hadn't even realised was there. He'd been gawking at the scene for a whole thirty seconds. He then looked at the people in the room. There were six of them in total - an old and wrinkly lady who had a cup of something steaming in her hands and was sitting in a comfortable chair by the fire. There was a young woman with long, wavy silvery hair crouched on the ground by a book and what looked like a crystal ball, a much younger girl right next to her. The child had thick, black hair and big, blue eyes. Sitting by the big table was a large, young man who was watching Merlin with a quizzical look. Another man, quite short, about Merlin's age, was standing in front of the potion cabinet and had a serious, almost annoyed look on his face. And from the back of the room, a large, black snake slithered into view. His golden eyes seemed to drill right through Merlin's soul, and his forked tongue licked the air. For a moment they just stared at each other.

Then Merlin witnessed something he couldn't have dreamt even in his wildest dreams - right there, in front of his eyes, the snake began transforming. Within a matter of two seconds, instead of a snake, he was looking at a tall, skinny man with a messy, russet-red hair, pale skin, dark clothes and a mischievous smirk. The only thing that didn't change was the eyes - they stayed golden and split in the middle, serpentlike. He blinked once.

"Welcome to the Coven. I'm glad you found your way", the man extended his hand. "My name's Crowley. You and your friends here", he nodded towards Aithusa and Qaidontin, "are welcome to stay however long you like. I can also answer any questions you might have."

"Oh yeah, I have questions", Merlin swallowed, finding his voice sounding foreign. "I'm Merlin."

Crowley frowned slightly but didn't say anything. "You may enter my office. I'll explain everything."

* * *

Crowley's office turned out to be a room littered with books, potions, candles, and crystals, along with so many different objects Merlin didn't recognise. Runed amulets and strange-shaped bottles lay scattered on his table. Merlin seated the chair in front of his table, and he sat behind it. Crowley's body language spoke of relaxation and of a devil-may-care attitude, yet his eyes were sharp and contemplating.

"Why do you not go by Emrys?" Crowley asked him as soon as they were alone. Merlin blinked in surprise. "How did you know I'm Emrys?"

The man let out a laugh. "It's obvious, isn't it? Magic is rolling out of you in waves. Are you telling me people can't usually tell?"

Merlin made a face. "They can't actually."

Crowley frowned, then gave him a shrug. "You didn't answer my question, though."

The warlock sighed. "Yeah, well. I just don't want to wander about everywhere telling everyone that I'm a prophecised sorcerer born with magic."

His answer seemed to satisfy the man. "Alright then, your choice. Now, what would you like to ask first?"

"What is this place?" Merlin asked immediately.

"The tree we're under is called the Nemeton. Druids worshipped this place for centuries, it's somewhat of a holy place for them. It's since become our home, and…" Crowley considered his words. "It keeps us safe from harm. Cloaks us from the naked eye. Comes in really handy."

Merlin nodded, satisfied. "And are you all sorcerers?"

The skinny man in front of him nodded with a smile. "Yes. This s a place where we can safely perform our very illegal activities while still living in relative peace. We're the Coven, and I'm their Warden. I'm sort of in charge."

"Sort of?" Merlin repeated.

"Well", Crowley's voice was high-pitched. "It basically means I have the final say in things. We're a family more than an actual organization. My magic is also the most powerful here, so everyone seems to think I offer some form of protection."

Merlin raised his brows at this, and Crowley chuckled. "I'm sorry, your magic is, of course, stronger than mine, so now you take the title of the most powerful sorcerer here."

"Okay, why are you so relaxed with me, then?" Merlin asked, leaning forwards. "All the others who really know the name Emrys, and know that it's me, are wary of me. They're afraid of me and in some sort of awe in front of me. Not you."

Crowley's expression stayed in its mildly amused state. "I'm very old and very powerful. You wouldn't know how to kill me even if you wanted to. And you don't exactly strike off as a very threatening human being."

Merlin shrugged, leaning back. "King Arthur disagrees."

Crowley's golden snake eyes flashed. "How was your relationship with him before you revealed your magic?"

The servant's eyes burned. He blinked a few times. "I was his manservant. We were friends."

The man frowned. "A servant and a king - friends?"

Merlin cleared his throat slightly, pulling out Ygraine's seal from his breast pocket. "He gave me his mother's seal as a token of our friendship - and his gratitude."

Crowley leaned closer, watching the sigil which bore her seal. He nodded slowly. "I see."

"It was just a month earlier", Merlin let our a wet chuckle. "Now… I saw the disgust in his eyes. I don't think I'll ever be able to go home."

Crowley let out a sigh. "You're welcome to stay here, for as long as you like. The Coven works not only as a safe haven for sorcerers but also as a school."

Merlin's head popped up. "A school?"

"Yes. What we have here is nearly every spellbook ever written", Crowley sounded very self-satisfied. "I've been collecting them over the years. Had to raid a few witchfinders to get my hands on these. Every now and again a little bird tells me about a new book having been discovered by one of the witchfinders. I usually go and collect it before the buggers burn it."

Merlin saw glee in his serpent eyes. A question burnt at the back of his throat. "What are you?"

"Me?" Crowley's eyebrows rose. "Oh, I'm just a shapeshifter, me. I spent a few too many years as a snake, though, so I can't turn entirely back to a human any longer. Hence, the eyes."

Merlin nodded, accepting his answer. "So you all just… live underground and learn magic?"

Crowley shrugged. "More or less. It's not a bad life. Saves all this lot from being burnt at the stake."

The warlock nodded. "Okay. I think I have all the answers I need for now." He got up from the chair. "I'll stay here."

Crowley's face widened to a grin. "Welcome to the Coven, Merlin."

* * *

Gilli was jubilant when he heard Merlin's decision. "Don't worry. You won't have to think about Arthur here at all."

The warlock didn't answer, just smiled sadly. The other sorcerer took him to meet the old lady by the fire. She was now holding the ghostly cat in her arms.

"This is Pherenice", Gilli introduced him. The old woman turned her head, meeting Merlin's eyes. The warlock was taken aback by their intense blue depth.

"Nice to meet you, young man", the woman croaked. "Merlin was it?"

"Yes", the thin man replied quietly. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. I'm sure you'll fit right in around here."

They left the old lady to her drink, and Merlin pulled Gilli's sleeve. "Gilli, what's that… thing in her arms?"

Gilli's eyes landed on the seemingly ethereal cat. "Oh, that's Butterfly. She's Nealon's familiar."

"Familiar?" Merlin repeated, tasting the word on his tongue.

"Yeah. Nealon's a conjurer", he explained, waving his hand to a freckle-faced boy talking with the broad-shouldered man he'd seen earlier by the table. The boy waved back, and they approached the two.

"Hi, new blood", the bigger of the two greeted with a gruff voice.

"Hi, I'm Merlin", he replied nervously, extending his hand. The muscular man studied him for a moment, before grabbing it.

"Connell."

The freckle-faced boy also grabbed Merlin's hand. "Nealon", he introduced himself. "Welcome to home. And don't let Connell scare you, he's really quite a sweetheart once you get to know him."

The bigger man growled at him, and Merlin could swear he saw _fangs._

Gilli pulled him away, towards the two girls sitting on the floor, still studying the crystal ball.

"Don't let Connell intimidate you, he really is a softie once you get to know him. Werewolves are always a bit territorial at first."

" _Werewolf?"_ Merlin repeated in shock, but Gilli was already introducing him to the two girls. The older, silver-haired girl smiled softly at him. "Nice to meet you, Merlin. I'm Lyra, and this is my sister Lunette."

The black-haired girl showed him a toothy grin.

"What are you doing?" the warlock couldn't help but ask, kneeling next to them.

"Oh, practising our divination", Lyra replied, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. "Our family has always had a very distinct third eye. I'm teaching Lunette scrying."

"Yeah, it's really fun", the little girl exclaimed. "Want to try?"

Merlin glanced at Gilli. "Absolutely." His friend leaned backwards, following the situation.

"Have you ever scryed before?" Lyra asked softly. Merlin thought back. "Sort of. I'm not that good."

Lunette giggled at this. She seemed excited that the newcomer was willing to try something that was clearly her thing.

Lyra cleared her throat. "The crystal ball exercises the part of you that sees your magic expressed in a visual form. As you practice, you may find that the tiny flecks that inspire you to see shapes in the crystal ball allow you to see other vision within the crystal itself that are more like actual visions."

Merlin nodded at her explanation, pretending to understand what she just said.

"Scrying just one form of divination, and it can be done with fire, water, mirrors… and crystal."

The silver-haired girl flashed him a smile. Merlin found it that he was quite fond of her smile.

"Put your hands here", Lunette guided, grabbing his hands and dragging them over the crystal ball.

"Pull your magic into focus, let the crystal reflect it back to you", Lyra explained. Merlin pulled out his magic, allowing it to flow freely into the glowing, cold surface beneath his fingers. Focusing his vision, he look into the swirling beauty of a clear crystal.

He saw… something. Smoke. Steam. Could have been either one. Pulling his magic into focus, he prodded deeper.

 _Arthur._ Merlin saw _Arthur,_ as clear as day, sitting by his bed in Camelot. The king's form was slumped, his usually broad shoulders seemingly crushed under an invisible weight. His hair was an uncombed mess, and his eyes were staring into the nothingness before him.

Merlin pulled his hands away in shock and suddenly felt something heavy stuck in his throat.

"I thought you said you weren't good", Lyra frowned at him. "You managed to establish direct contact with a real-time scene almost immediately. It took me months of practice to be able to do that."

Merlin swallowed, breathing heavily. "Guess I have a gift, after all."

* * *

"Finnian, you here?" Gilli called out as they walked into a room that looked like straight out of a herbology book. There were dried plants and berries on every surface of the room, hanging from the roof, on every shelf and in the hands of the young man standing in the middle of the room.

"Hi, Gilli. Hi, new person… Merlin, was it?" the man answered awkwardly. "I'm Finnian." Another person turned his head when they entered. Merlin recognised it to be the same short man who'd been standing in front of the potion shelf in the main hall.

"I'm Branson", he stated shortly and turned back to whatever small bottle he was fiddling with.

Merlin greeted them both. He glanced up with a frown. "Why do you only have sage here?"

Finnian and Branson exchanged looks. "Crowley doesn't like the smell, so we dry it over here."

Merlin frowned. "Sage smells good."

Finnian shrugged. "I know, right? Crowley's weird."

The warlock nodded. "Noted. So, what are you two doing, exactly?"

Branson turned around showing him a bottle full of dried berries. "Deathberries. I'm making a poison."

Merlin shifted, uncomfortable. "What for?"

Finnian shrugged. "He wants to be prepared in case this place ever gets found. He fiddles with potions, I'm a healer. We all have our own thing, don't we?"

Merlin huffed. "I guess. Restoration magic, then? I've always been rubbish at that."

Finnian let out a humorous laugh. "I could teach you if you want."

A remnant of something similar to excitement sparked in Merlin's chest. "I would love that."

"Do whatever you want", Gilli grinned. "But first we need to get you settled in. Get you a room. Crowley agreed on giving you your own since you brought the dragon and everything."

Merlin nodded, looking over his shoulder with a frown. "Speaking of which… where are they?"

Gilli sighed and Finnian gave Merlin a knowing smile. "Aislinn has abducted them."

Merlin frowned. "Who's Aislinn?"

"Follow me", Gilli gestured, taking him out of the herb room and deeper underground. The candles were more scarce here and it was a little colder. The long tunnel finally ended in a huge, open space. It was no longer dirt that made the walls, but stone. They were in a proper cave. In the middle of it was a fireplace, a small bed and various sacks full of who knows what.

Merlin looked around and saw both Aithusa and Qaidontin interacting with a young woman who had wild, ginger hair and a patchwork dress. However, Merlin didn't have much time to focus on them as he did to the huge creature lying in the room.

The creature was the size of a dragon, not far from being the same size as Kilgharrah. It had delicate, silvery feathers covering its entire body, but it's face reminded Merlin of a cat, with its large ears and dark snout. Its legs were the only thing in its body not covered by feathers - they were that of a bird's, they almost looked like they belonged to an eagle. The long, curved talons scraped against the stone floor as the creature shifted. Merlin could see that the creature had wings - they were small, though, too small for the creature to be able to fly with them, and a tail that was neatly wrapped over its hind legs.

"What", Merlin breathed out, "is that?"

Gilli smirked up at the creature. "That's a trico. Hi, Aislinn."

The woman got up from where she'd been sitting with Merlin's two friends, and came to greet them. "Merlin, right?" she smiled, her green eyes glimmering with excitement.

"You must be a dragonlord. That's why those two were with you, right?"

Merlin let out a breathy laugh. "Yes, I am. But what the hell is a trico?"

Aislinn glanced up at the beast towering over them. Its black eyes were large and wet and they were looking at Merlin.

"That's Thomas", he gestured towards the feathered creature. "We found him two years ago by the sea. He was much smaller then, wounded, soaked and half dead, poor thing."

"I've never seen or heard anything like that", Merlin breathed out in awe.

"Yeah, no one's heard of a trico on this side of the sea. No one except for Crowley." Merlin turned his eyes towards Aislinn.

"Crowley's been overseas?"

"Yeah, he's told us stories", Gilli joined the conversation. "He recognised this one to be a trico immediately. Said it came from the mountains of a faraway land, and that it was a wonder its still alive."

"But how will you get him out of here?" Merlin pondered.

Aislinn answered him. "This cave continues all the way to the shore. Right now it's too cold for Thomas, though. He's just sleeping, mostly. Barely eats anything. He'll get more active during springtime."

Merlin closed his mouth, that had been hanging open most of the time, tearing his eyes away from the magnificent sight.

"I hope he can someday regain his strength", Aislinn explained. "But it's difficult because he's so big and careless and if someone saw him…" her voice died. Merlin nodded in understanding. People would kill or capture this creature immediately.

"But I must say, your friends here are quite amazing", Aislinn stated, nodding towards Merlin's dragonic friends. "What are their names?"

" _I am Qaidontin",_ the wyrm spoke, opening a telepathic connection with the three of them. Aislinn's jaw dropped.

" _You can talk?"_ she spoke in awe. Qaidontin hissed in a mildly annoyed manner.

 _"Obviously",_ the wyrm replied. " _And the dragon is called Aithusa, but she doesn't possess the ability to speak as of yet."_

Merlin smiled fondly at the white-scaled dragon, stroking her cheek. Aithusa leaned into his touch and closed her eyes.

Maybe, just _maybe_ this could work. Maybe these people could fill the hole in his heart. Maybe this could be home.

* * *

 **Nearly a year after the latest chapter, I crawl out and hit y'all with a chapter. Bam.**

 **I was so thrilled to receive the amazing feedback from the last chapter. I was nervous to post it, but it seems you guys really liked it, so I'm happy :)**

 **So, as some of you can probably tell, this fic has now turned into a Good Omens/The Last Guardian crossover. For those of you who don't know what Good Omens is, where have you been and what are you doing with your life? Go watch, pussy.**

 **Jokes aside, it's not necessery to watch it for this story only since this fic is seen through Merlin and Arthur's eyes. If you haven't seen it, you don't have to know anymore than what you'll find out about them in these following chapters. Inspired by a scene in said TV show I have now brought Crowley and sir Aziraphale into Merlin's world, and they will play a big part in the future chapters.**

 **The trico creature is from a videogame called the Last Guardian, and as long as this fic has existed I have dreamed of somehow bringing a trico into the story, and now I've finally done it. If you're interested in seeing what a trico actually looks like, just google the name of the game.**

 **I know this chapter had a lot of unexpected turns in it and I know some of you probably aren't fans of the whole crossover thing, but it is my fic and my rules, and I've made my decision about it. I have also rewritten some aspects of the old chapters, and I heard your opinions about Lillian (she used to be called Lilith, but I changed that). She'll be a bit different in the future, you'll see what I mean.**

 _ **trekmel:**_ **Thank you for reading, and thank you for your kind words. I'm glad you didn't find it too over-flashy, because I really want to bring a different kind of feel of magic in this story. I truly wish you find this chapter enjoyable as well :)**

 ** _ruby890_ : Who doesn't love a little angst, am I right? Arthur will have a little existensial crisis to deal with at this troubling time, but maybe in time he'll get over it ;)**

 ** _mersan123_ : Thank you 3 BAMF Merlin has only just started, there will be lots of it in the future. I do hope you enjoy my new chapter and I thank you for loyally reading this fic since the beginning.**

 ** _1983Sarah_ : Fuck subtle, am I right? Don't worry, if you were a fan of magic usage in the last chapter, you'll be thrilled to hear that there will be a lot more magic in the next chapters. Merlin's surrounded by sorcerers now, and he'll learn plenty of new things. **

**_Random person_ : Yeah, I think Merlin and Arthur both need to go through this. It's for the best.**

 ** _Taz_ : Haha, thank you very much for your kind words. And yeah, Arthur truly can be a prat sometimes, but I think a little time apart will show both of them to appreciate each other in a completely new light. **

**_Gingeraffealene_ : Thank you for reading and saying such nice things :) Thrilled to hear you liked my work, and I hope you'll follow it in the future. And yeah, Morgana's precence in Merlin's life is very important and will serve a purpose further into the story.**

 ** _lovecherishprotect_ _-16_ : Thanks, glad you liked it. I try to keep Merlin and Arthur as much in their original chracter forms as possible. Hope you keep reading :)**

 ** _fireicewriter42_ , _Blue eyed titan99_ & _MareiPotter_ : Hello, loves. Here's your update. Enjoy!**

 ** _Guest_ : Thank you aaaa 3 Merlin and Arthur need to spend some time apart right now, but maybe when given enough time they'll come around. Glad you liked the magic reveal, and I hope you keep reading :3**

 ** _Toby Hamee 'Seer Hork-Bajir_ : To be honest, I'm surprised you found it at all :D Glad you did though, and I hope you stick around. **

**Well, that's me for this time. Hope y'all enjoyed. I'll publish again, eventually. Till then, cheers!**


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